


Road to Recovery

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alive Mary Winchester, Awesome Rowena MacLeod, Castiel & Dean Winchester Friendship, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Hunters & Hunting, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Post-Season/Series 11 AU, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam Winchester in Lucifer's Cage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-05-30 18:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19408933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Castiel knows that his relationship with Sam will take time, but unfortunately, the life the Winchester's lead always means complications to that fact. Can they hold out against the upcoming threats?





	1. Bars

**Author's Note:**

> New work! Please leave Kudos and Comments, thank you!!!

Castiel glanced to the woman, Mary Winchester, and tried to remember everything he knew about her. Whilst in heaven, when he had received the order that he would raise Dean from perdition, he knew that Mary Winchester was his mother. She had died in a fire, caused by the Demon Azazel, and had left behind two sons. He later found out that it was because of Mary Winchester that Sam had been fed Demon blood, yet he knew the Hunter did not blame his Mother.

Everything he knew, apart from those facts, was what Dean told him. The picture by the side of his bed, brief memories of her when he was younger. Sam, for the most part, didn’t think about her. Not in the way Dean did. Which was why, when things progressed between himself and the youngest Hunter, Castiel made sure to not bring up his Mother in conversations. Sam didn’t have many memories, just knew that she had been incredible, and Castiel didn’t push it.

It had shattered his heart, returning to the Bunker after Dean’s sacrifice and losing Sam. The moment the banishing sigil lit up, he knew he was in trouble. He knew, more importantly, that Sam was in trouble. So, returning to find Dean and Mary was not something he expected. And, after they had found Sam, it was evident that he didn’t know what to say to her either. Castiel longed for time alone with the Winchester, so that he could ask what had happened down in the basement that Sam wasn’t talking about, but Dean was blind. As usual, the Angel thought, sparing a glance to his friend.

No, brother. Dean was like a brother, had called him such, even if he was dating the Hunter’s younger brother. Dean had never said anything against the Angel, never disapproved of their relationship, even though very few ever met his approval. Especially when it concerned Sam. They hat returned to the Bunker, Sam racing away to have a shower, while Dean exclaimed that he needed a drink.

Sam hadn’t come with them. The trio sat in the bar, Mary peppering her eldest with questions about what had happened since she was gone, while Castiel thought about Sam, alone in the Bunker, so evidently withdrawing from comfort. Castiel knew Sam, knew that he didn’t want comfort right now, even though he so obviously needed it. It didn’t help that Dean was blind to his brother’s suffering, at least when it came to certain things.

‘I need to get laid.’ Dean stated, swirling the last of his beer around and then snapped his head up, looking worryingly at his mother. She just shrugged, like she wasn’t too bothered by his exclamation, and looked around the bar. Castiel didn’t say anything, knew that the Hunter wouldn’t actually try and do anything tonight, not when Sam had only just come back from the Men of Letters’ hands.

‘I don’t get how Sam can do it, man.’ He stated, looking to Castiel, who glanced back at him. The Angel sighed internally, if the Winchester actually thought about it, he would understand why Sam did not want physical contact, especially not from an Angel. But, as ever, Dean was blind to that kind of suffering, only thinking of the torture.

‘I thought you two were… dating?’ Mary inquired, looking to Castiel, who nodded slowly. It had been bad enough trying to explain to Dean that him and Sam did not engage in any sexual activities, let alone talk about it with his mother.

‘We are. But Sam prefers an emotional relationship, over a physical one.’ Castiel kindly put, then drank his beer. Mary looked at him for a moment, allowed Dean to talk a little more about the current world, before Mary asked another question.

‘And Sam was in Lucifer’s cage? The Devil?’ Dean confirmed it, but the Angel understood the real question. Meeting the woman’s gaze, the question so evident on her face, he gave the slightest nod. Her eyes widened, horror, disgust and guilt evident, before she glanced to Dean. Castiel shook his head, Dean did not know, nor was it their place to tell him. If he could not see it, then Castiel would not go into detail about Sam’s past. It was not his place to do so, he thought, turning back to the drink.

**

Walking back into the Bunker, his home, the Angel thought with a smile, the first thing he noted was that Sam wasn’t in bed. No, he was slumped over the table, laptop in front of him, probably researching. It would either be to do with Lucifer, the British Men of Letters, or a case. Dean didn’t seem too concerned, Mary following him into the library and taking a seat. Castiel, however, had the benefit of being able to see souls. He could see Sam’s, how weary and tired it was, how it needed rest. He may not know the full extent of what happened to his boyfriend down in the basement, but he knew it couldn’t have been good.

He was careful when he placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder, noting the obvious flinch from the man, and how he forced his body to relax. When he had relaxed, the Angel squeezed slightly, a gesture to assure Sam that Castiel cared. Considering how close the Winchester brothers were, Castiel had always been surprised by the lack of physical affection between them. It was spoken silently, glances that were shared between the two. It just meant they were both touch-starved, although Mary may be a solution to that problem.

‘Time for bed, Sam. You’re exhausted.’ Castiel calmly stated, looking over his shoulder to the screen. Unsurprisingly, case reports showed up, and the Angel had to bite down a comment about how Sam needed to heal before they went on a case.

‘I found us a case.’ Sam stated, looking up to Castiel with hope in those hazel eyes that the Angel had grown to love.

‘And we can discuss it in the morning.’ Castiel calmly stated, felt the surrender of his boyfriend as he accepted that he should probably be sleeping, and Sam shut the laptop. He stood slowly, and even Dean must have noticed the slight wobble as he did so, before walking towards his room. When he almost stumbled again, Castiel was quick to his side, ignoring the flinch as he wrapped an arm around his boyfriend (he still couldn’t get used to being able to call him that) and led him down the corridor.

‘Thanks.’ Sam mumbled as Castiel helped him onto the bed, watched the Hunter strip of his shoes and tiredly attempt to undo the belt. Castiel hesitated, noted Sam’s frustration, before offering. He watched the man’s soul recoil, heard his heart pick up at the question, but Sam still gave a nod. Castiel was nothing but professional, trying not to show his anger towards his elder brother for hurting Sam so badly.

‘Good night Sam.’ Castiel stated, surprised when Sam reached to hug him. This was about the most physical it got, apart from occasional kisses that were light and dainty. But, his vessel was pleased with such a thing, and the Angel smiled when Sam’s soul shone brighter at the touch. He pulled back, the smile had now grown on Sam’s face as well, and he shut the door quietly.


	2. Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A case

The Hunt was a Witch. They couldn’t tell what exactly she wanted, or he, but it was certainly a Witch. Three women found dead, all with Hex bags in the household. Sam looked up from his research, confused as to the fertility herbs he had found in each of the bags. The coroner’s reports indicated that the women all died from blood loss through a single slice wound to the neck, used by a curved blade. Sam presumed it was probably a sacred blade of some sort, but he hadn’t worked out why.

Each of the women had been found with high levels of oestrogen, and in turn, a hormone known as FSH. It was supposed to be to do with periods, which made Dean very uncomfortable. Mary, no, Mom had hit him more than once during the two days they had been here so far, Dean adamantly stating that he really didn’t need to know about that kind of thing.

Truth be told, Sam was fascinated. Whatever the Witch was doing, it was evidently high-end witchcraft, possibly even dark magic. He pondered over whether to call Rowena and ask for her expertise, but thought better of it. The last thing he needed was for the redhead to think that Sam needed her. Instead, he let Mom and Dean go out to interview some of the family of the victims, while he continued his research.

It was three hours later that Castiel entered the room, looking around with a bag of food in hand. Sam couldn’t help but smile, leaving the laptop and walking across to the Angel. Having long since buried the feelings over the BMoL, he didn’t feel the need to burden the Angel with such a thing, and so smiled to him happily. It didn’t matter, he told himself, he couldn’t make Castiel understand what had happened, what Sam had done.

‘Hello, Sam.’ He offered out the paper bag, Sam accepting it happily and grinning when he spotted the salad. He tucked into it, occasionally asking questions as Cas explained everything he had found on Lucifer’s location and what he was trying to do. After the latest series of burnt corpses, it was hardly a surprise that Lucifer was running around trying to cause havoc. Even if the thought made his stomach churn, he didn’t openly state such a thing. Instead, he finished his salad and then took his laptop to his queen-sized bed, before patting it so that Castiel would come close.

He didn’t flinch this time, although his muscles tensed slightly as the Angel got close to him. Sam took the Angel through the evidence that he had found, showed the herbs that had been located and explained the link between them and the hormone levels in the blood. Cas didn’t say anything throughout the entire situation, listening to him while he spoke.

‘Do you think they are dead because it didn’t work?’ Castiel inquired, and Sam nodded.

‘Probably. The spell didn’t work, so different women are being used until one of them is a suitable candidate for whatever the spell is. Each woman was taken at completely different locations, so I’m not sure how the Witch is choosing candidates, but they were all within the same age range.’ He sighed in frustration, slamming the laptop closed and rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. It wasn’t easy, there weren’t many leads, and he was tired.

A hand took his, and Sam lowered his head to the Angel’s shoulder, drained from the case. He knew what Castiel was thinking, knew that it was probably something to do with the fact that Sam hadn’t been ready for this case in the first place, but Sam couldn’t just SIT there and allow what Toni…

‘Sam, you’ve done everything you can. Get some rest.’ Cas was right, as usual, and Sam smiled up at him. Blue eyes shone, and Sam found his gaze flicking to his lips, then back to the eyes. Hesitantly, rather scared that Castiel would reject him, he leant forwards. They had, of course, kissed before. But it had been quick pecks, sometimes before Sam went to bed, or they went separately on a case. And never after Lucifer had been let from the Cage, not when he had taken Cas’s vessel and Sam had almost kissed…

Hot lips melted against his, and that was the first thing he was proud of. The softness, the warmth, so unlike the others that he could shove down. Hands moved gently to his hips as the kiss progressed, Castiel’s tongue tracing Sam’s bottom lip and of course he granted access, a gasp as the heat between them became hotter. Sam moved, facing Castiel with one hand cupping his cheek, the other around the back of his neck, surprised by how right this felt, how it felt like he should never have denied himself such a thing.

Cas was a good kisser, which was nice, especially when lips moved faster, tongues joining and Sam felt blood seeping lower. He reached hesitantly for Castiel’s chest, just to feel the muscle beneath the shirt, and smiled against his boyfriend’s lips. It felt right, it felt better than right, until Castiel’s hand hit his belt, and Sam felt ice-cold fear flood through his veins. Just like that, the arousal was gone, and Sam pulled away sharply, trying to conceal the very-evident fear.

‘It’s okay, Sam.’ Castiel murmured, lips swollen and delicious looking, yet the Winchester found himself shaking, stupid because he couldn’t control it, couldn’t make it go away. He tried, stumbled out of the bed as he stared down at the betraying limbs, trying to get the memories back into the box that they had jumped out of.

‘I’m going for a shower.’ He blurted, slamming the bathroom door between them and sinking down against the frame, trying to ignore the burning of tears behind his eyelids as he squeezed them shut. His heartrate was high, body panicking as it told him he should be doing something, should be running very far away. But he couldn’t, and it took him forty-five minutes until he came out, by which time Mom and Dean were back in the room.

They looked at him, but Sam was already excusing himself, saying he needed to go on a walk. He didn’t look to the Angel, who deserved so much better than the Broken Boy with Demon Blood, shutting the door behind him and stepping out into the night. It was bright, cold, but a quiet evening, that led him down the streets and into the park.

The young Hunter should never have gone out without his gun, and he knew that as soon as he heard the footsteps behind him, spinning to find a cloth clamping over his face. He kicked out with his back leg, felt it connect with a slighter leg, yet he had already breathed in too much of the gas, and found himself pitching down onto the cold floor, hearing a women’s chuckle from behind him.

_Cas, shit, I’m sorry._


	3. Frickin' Witches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam doesn't like Witches.   
> Warning: Violence/Non-con

Sam woke up, cursing himself for running out of the motel room. Bad enough that Sam hadn’t called Rowena when he had got stuck, but now he had managed to get himself kidnapped as well. That, he thought miserably, was his typical luck. He should have known better than to freak out in the room with Castiel, should have grown up and acted like a man, rather than a scared child. Sometimes, it just got too much, the thoughts inside his head overpowered everything else and he couldn’t stop it from spiralling out of control.

Anyway, Sam thought, looking around the room. The rag in his mouth was pretty uncomfortable, not helping the fact his throat was sore. He vaguely remembered a pressure on the side of his head, which would explain the blood that was sticky. He remembered the rag around his mouth, possibly explaining the burning in his throat, the chains around it probably didn’t help. He was tied to a table, but it was a metal one, too sturdy to break. It was surprisingly long, fitting his large frame. The end was propped up, like a hospital bed, so he could look around.

The room itself was pretty bland. Wooden, a concrete floor, and from what he could see through the cracks, they were in a forest. How… unoriginal. It was either sunset or dawn, but he didn’t want to guess, because he couldn’t remember how long he’d been here. There was no way he could get these chains of unaided, but he wasn’t entirely sure if Dean was going to find him. After all, why would Dean go out looking for him. He prayed silently, hoping Castiel would come and get him.

When the door opened, he was unsurprised when the Witch walked in. Probably mid-forties, greying black hair. She wore a red dress, dark red, and had a smile on her face. Sam watched as she walked across to the table opposite, to the equipment set up. Old parchment, which wasn’t good news. It meant she was experienced. She wandered across, fingers holding a very sharp pair of scissors. Keeping his prayers silent, he watched her cut off his shirt, admiring his torso.

She looked amused, like she knew something he didn’t. He kept silent, watched her as she moved her hands to his mouth, removing the gag. Sam didn’t speak, didn’t give the Witch the honour.

‘Sam Winchester, you really are quite the specimen. Perfect, for what I need to do.’ Sam definitely did not like the sound of that. He watched as her hands ran across his stomach, keeping his eyes focused on the ceiling. Dean would come soon, even if the Angel wasn’t listening. Why would Castiel be ignoring him, though? Just because of his freak-out in the room?

‘We can this the easy way, or the hard way. Which would you prefer?’ She asked softly, climbing up onto the table, straddling him. He screwed his eyes shut when lips brushed his cheek, thinking about how happy he was going to be when this bitch was dead. The Witch laughed, settling back on his hips, rocking slightly. This was very different to the Men of Letters torture, to how Toni had dealt with him. That he could deal with, the drug made everything hazy and soft touches he could squeeze his eyes and forget, but this wasn’t possible. The woman was there, sitting on his lap, eyes lidded as she rocked against his groin.

‘Now, honey. I just need a sample, then one special baby is going to be made.’ Sam froze, tensing up entirely. The Witch sighed, rocking against his thigh, and he forced his leg to relax. If this was going to happen again, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme of Sam’s life if he was honest, then he wanted no part in it at all.

‘You aren’t getting anything out of me.’ He snarled, wondering what the hell she was trying to do. Logically, he understood the words. He just didn’t see how it could work, it wasn’t possible. Surely, it couldn’t be possible. The herbs that he had found had suggested something like this, but never to this extent. He felt his stomach turn, thinking about the words, thinking about how badly he had messed this hunt up.

_Cas, please._

‘I’ll either have to knock some of that energy out of you, then perform a simple spell, or you and me can…’ She trailed off, running fingers down the hair under his belly-button. He tried to buck her off, evidently a bad thing, because she pushed back down. Then, she slid off. Sam was momentarily relieved, until she pulled out a case from under the table.

Knives. A selection of them, plus a pair of pliers, a hammer, and some nails. He stared at the selection, then back up to her. She carefully ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it on top of her head, tying it up. Her hand moved to the zip of her dress, and Sam would have looked away, but what she was wearing underneath was more terrifying. A leather corset, tight leather shorts. Fishnet stockings attached to a garter belt, platformed lace-up heels. He stared at her, really stared, and looked back up to the ceiling.

‘Castiel. Please.’ He begged quietly, hearing the Witch chuckle, before she moved across with the hammer. This was like the Men of Letters all over again, it had only been a week since that, he didn’t know if he could do this again. Didn’t know if he could be cut apart and asked for things he wouldn’t ever give.

‘Stay nice and still, sweetie. This will only hurt a little.’ She said the words softly, like talking to a child, and moved towards his feet. Oh, he really didn’t want this to happen. With Toni, he had been able to handle it, knowing his brother was dead and he had nothing left to live for, because Castiel would never stay without Dean around. But now, now he had his brother back. He had his Mom. And he had Cas, the Angel who wasn’t answering his prayers.

Sam tried to struggle in the restrains, feeling her strip off the rest of his clothing apart from boxers. A nicety, he thought with a smile, finding the humour in the worse possible situation. When she was done, a nail pressed against his foot. It was cold, the point digging into his skin, and he knew then that he wasn’t getting out of this. He squirmed, trying not to look.

‘Remember, my love, you chose this option.’ She stated calmly, and then the hammer came down. Sam screamed.


	4. Just say the word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owwies.   
> Warning: Non con/ Violence.

His head hurt. In fact, if he focused enough on his head, the rest didn’t hurt as much. His eyes flicked down, and he was glad that he had a strong stomach. It helped, thinking about it as a case body, rather than his own. He wondered if the Cage had been the same. Apart from down there, his body could be healed. His death meant nothing, he just reformed. This was more agonising, because she had to be careful not to kill. He could see the nails in his feet and hands, they really were very painful. His fingers and toes had been broken, nails ripped off. Cuts covered the rest of his body, lacerations not deep enough to kill. His kneecap had been smashed by the hammer, which was probably the most painful thing. The sound had been awful. The Witch stood, still in that ridiculous outfit, now soaked in blood. She looked slightly displeased.

‘You’re stronger than I gave you credit for.’ Sam didn’t have enough energy to be pleased, looking up to the ceiling. His entire body felt like it was going to burst.

‘The spell won’t work yet, which is unfortunate, so I will give you a choice. Either you voluntarily give me the donation, or I burst your eyes. That might work.’ Sam flinched, wondering when Dean was going to get here. He was still slightly hurt that the Angel hadn’t come, he’d been screaming for him the entire time. Sam looked to her, and thought that maybe bargaining might work.

‘Tell me about the spell. I want to see it, then we can talk.’ She looked amused, but she did oblige. She brought the parchment across, and Sam was lucky that his Latin was good. It was a mixture of words, symbols and illustrations. He tried to take in as much as he could, but it was shocking.

‘Demon blood? That’s what it amplifies?’ The Witch chuckled, running her finger along the waistband of his boxers. They had been white. They were now red. He was pretty sure that this pair would just have to be chucked away. No amount of bleaching was going to get this out.

‘It uses equal mixes of you, and the mother’s genes. It just happens to amplify your connection to the Demon blood, so the child will have powers.’ He could see that, could see the Latin words. It was a mixture of spells, clashed together awkwardly. He didn’t miss the word sacrifice, eyes flicking to the Witch, who caught the idea.

‘The mother will sacrifice her life so that the infant can be born.’ The Witch stated, which meant the woman was alive. He wondered if she’d done this to her. Sensing his curiosity, the Witch walked to the door. She disappeared for a moment, before reappearing. The girl didn’t look awful, eyes were red from crying, shirt slightly torn, a bruise under her eye. When she caught sight of Sam, she stopped crying pretty quickly.

‘Sam Winchester, meet Anna Green. Anna, this is the daddy of your baby. Or will be.’ Anna was dragged to the chair by the table which contained the instructions, and Sam watched the chains wrap round her skin. The girl was shuddering, she could be no older than early-twenties. Like the other victims, but why hadn’t they worked? What was it that made this girl special? Or was it him, was the woman waiting for a suitable man?

‘So, how does it work?’ Sam asked, trying to deter the Witch from hurting the girl, Anna, too much. The Witch stepped back, heels clicking, and looked to Sam.

‘I took the girl at the height of fertility, the spell was simple. It’s encased here,’ She took a vial out of the corset, a glowing light in it. Not too unlike Grace, although it was obviously less powerful. Sam watched her walk to the bowl, placing it down by the side. Sam looked at it, then back to her.

‘I need your essence, obviously. Yours can be extracted difficultly, or with a little… fun.’ She winked, and Sam looked away. This kid, the thing she was creating, was going to be awful. A child born out of dark magic was bound to have side effects.

‘Please, just let me go.’ The woman sobbed, and the Witch turned. Sam didn’t like that, didn’t like it at all. He knew she was going to die, but if he could hold it off, Dean might get here in time.

‘Leave her alone.’ He snarled, and the Witch smiled. She walked across, a syringe in hand. Sam watched it inject into his blood, wondering what she’d given him.

‘So, Sam. The hard way, or the easy way?’ The Witch inquired, walking back across. The needle in her hand made Sam want to scream, he remembered the Cage, but they could come back. Here, he wasn’t sure if the Angel could bring back his sight. Or if he would want to. So far, Sam knew the damage was reversable. The woman, Anna, was sobbing as the Witch walked across.

‘I get stabbed in the eye, or you create a spawn of dark magic? I choose the first, thanks.’ He snarked, although he didn’t feel that confident. He hoped that Dean would come, was sure that he couldn’t be too far away. The Witch chuckled, brushed a hand down into the waistband of his boxers. Sam held still, refusing to give her the benefit of flinching, even when the cold hand wrapped around him.

‘You still think Dean is coming. That’s cute. But I know something you don’t.’ The Witch mocked, and Sam felt his heart sink. He tried not to show it, but as the woman peered down at him, he knew his face betrayed him.

‘I sent him a little distraction. A pretty woman to bed, he’ll be busy for days. In fact, he has. You’ve been gone 39 hours, Sam. He isn’t coming, and the Angel don’t care unless Dean tells him to.’ Sam squeezed his eyes shut, before fingers forced them open. That wasn’t true, he told himself, Castiel had chosen him. The Boy with Demon blood, over the Righteous man. She looked slightly less happy than she did before, perhaps it was actually sympathy. It turns out he was right, a hand came to cup his cheek.

‘I know how it feels to be the last choice, Sam. Now, hold still.’ He stared at the needle, realising she was serious. Anna shrieked, screaming for someone to help, and the Witch glared at her until she shut up, reducing the sound to small sobs. Sam felt sorry for her, he must look pretty bad, considering the amount of blood. The Witch came closer, reaching for his eyelid. He held still, really not fancying moving too much for this.

‘You don’t have to do this. I can help you.’ He offered, and the Witch sighed.

‘Just give me the word, and we can do this the other way.’ Sam bit his lip, but didn’t speak. The dark-haired woman nodded, held down his head and moved close. He couldn’t say yes, couldn’t do that again. It was his body, but somehow, it seemed like nobody agreed with him. In that moment, just as the thing burst into his eye, and pain shot through him like lightening, he realised she was right. Nobody was coming to save him. He just wasn’t worth it.


	5. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, some Sastiel

Sam didn’t really fight. He needed an opportunity, so even when the stuff was injected right into the base of his cock, he didn’t fight. Felt his body betray him, watched the Witch smile. He couldn’t really see, one eye was pretty bad, the other had tears blurring the vision. Even so, he knew the Witch had lost the shorts. Anna had stayed quiet, so had Sam, until he felt utterly used. The Witch purred happily, rocking her hips twice more before unmounting.

He didn’t move. His boxers shoved down slightly, body numb, despite the broken bones, blood and nails imbedded. He didn’t even think about the eye. The Witch was murmuring words, before she took a knife, and sliced Anna’s throat cleanly open. Sam didn’t even move, just listened to the words. He started trying to move his broken hand, feeling the nail tear the skin, but it didn’t really hurt. He kept repeating the movement, until he had the nail in his hand, and Sam called to her.

‘Please…’ Sam didn’t beg, but the words muttered caught the Witch’s attention. She walked across, a smile on her face, mist encasing her hand. When she was close enough, Sam moved. The nail pierced the side of her cheek, the Witch screaming. Sam reached forwards, teeth hit an ear, and he tore the skin. His broken hand reached, still with three nails in it, and gripped hair. He noted the phone in the bra, and hoped. His hand reached into the corset, trying desperately to move his fingers. The Witch fell unconscious after Sam hit her head against the metal table, and then pushed the phone screen.

The number was ingrained in his mind, and he typed it in. He was working his other hand, the chains having given way. He unwrapped himself, listening to the dial, then heard the sizzling from the Witch’s bowl. That was a problem he’d need to deal with.

‘Hello?’ That was Dean’s voice, gruff with alcohol, and Sam wondered if his brother had even noticed he was missing.

‘Dean?’ He blurted, wishing his voice was stronger. Dean sucked in air.

‘Sam? Where are you? I’ve been looking for ages…’

‘Can you track the phone? I think… I think I need healing.’ He muttered, keeping the phone on as he fell from the table. He basically slid across the floor, gripping the knife. Breaking the circle of the spell, he watched the powders and blood and the thing he didn’t want to think about go up in flames. He dropped back, shielding his one good eye as the light and heat radiated out. At least the spell was broken, he thought, before looking to the dead body of the girl. He hadn't saved her, and he hadn't kept his body either.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do now, but looked to Anna, then to the Witch. He slumped against the far wall, holding the knife close, and waited. He just needed Dean to come and get him.

**

Sam’s eye flickered, watched Dean come sprinting in. Castiel was close behind, and they seemed to not even recognise him. They went to the Witch, Dean putting a bullet through her before she could wake. Castiel looked into the bowl, his face furrowing as he stared.

‘Dean, look at this.’ His brother moved across, and Sam tried to speak.

‘D…Dean.’ Both men looked up, and Dean actually blinked. Sam tried to move, dragging himself. His brother came running, skidding into the blood surrounding Sam. He was shouting for Cas, who was by his other side, and the Angel looked horrified. Maybe it was because Sam evidently only had one eye. Maybe it was the fact he was wearing very little.

‘Get him out of the warding. I can’t heal this damage here.’ Castiel tried to scoop Sam up, but Sam was worried that the spell had been broken, but not fully destroyed, and he also concerned that they had left Anna. The girl needed to be buried, to be returned to her family. The outside was cold, the ground digging in as Castiel lay him down. He looked up to his Angel, gave a small smile as he realised that Cas hadn't left him, he just hadn't been able to find him.

‘Sam, hold on, I need to get the nails out.’ He looked away, finding his brother’s gaze and relaxed. This was nice, this was safe. Home, he thought, wondering where Mary was. A vague pain shot through him, and he figured Castiel must be removing the nails, but he didn’t look. He didn’t want to see, didn’t want to feel this anymore.

‘T-thanks f-for coming.’ Sam muttered, looking up to his brother’s green eyes and stretching his lips further. Dean looked away, and Sam’s heart almost shattered, but he tried not to show it as he fought the tears that brimmed. His brother didn’t care, of course he didn’t. He had come because he had to, because it was a Hunt.

‘S-sorry.’ He managed to get out, before his good eye went dark, head tipping to the side.

**

When he woke, he was aware of the fact that he could see. Out of both eyes. His fingers rose to his face, nails intact, and traced the edge of his jawline. No cuts, no tenderness, no blood. They moved upwards, covering the good eye, and he could still see. Breathing out, the Hunter shifted to sit up, felt an ache close over his body, but nothing unmanageable.

Then he realised someone had changed his boxers. That made his stomach flip, not that he had anything in it. Did they know what she had done? Did they know that Sam… No. No, he couldn’t do that again, couldn’t put himself through that. Cutting him out of his thoughts, the door to his room opened, and Castiel stood in the doorway. He looked just as surprised as Sam felt, but his face showed joy, and Sam felt his heart clench.

‘You’re awake.’ Castiel bluntly stated, moving forward and sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘Yes, thank you for healing me.’ He awkwardly stated, staring down as Castiel took his hand. It felt right, the warmth spreading, but he couldn’t forget what had just happened.

‘I was so worried, Sam.’ The tone caused him to rise his head, realising that Castiel actually looked like he was going to cry, and Sam found himself moving forwards into his arms. Shirtless, but he didn’t really mind, he buried his head into the crook of Cas’s neck. The Angel caught him, stroked his hair, and Sam realised he was sobbing. His fingers gripped the shirt Cas was wearing, one of the ones that he and Dean had bought for the Angel, and he shook silently.

‘Why d-does everyone d-do… that to me?’ He stated, words falling out of his mouth before he could stop them, and he felt the Angel jump slightly in surprise. Perhaps he hadn't expected the question, Sam thought.

‘Do what, Sam?’ Castiel asked, gravelly voice low as he asked. They both knew what Sam had been referring to, but Sam had never admitted to this aloud.

‘W-was my fault, with T-toni.’ Castiel shifted them, so that Sam was lying against his chest on the bed, hand still stroking through Sam’s hair.

‘Why do you think it was your fault? The Angel asked, keeping his breathing steady, and Sam was thankful for it. At least one of them was controlled.

‘Drugged me, but I… We were together, but I didn’t know why, and I couldn’t break out of it.’ He admitted, expecting the Angel to chuck him out, to break of this relationship. He was surprised, however, when the Angel pulled him tighter.

‘No, Sam. Not your fault. You cannot ever be blamed for that. Nor this, Sam. It’s rape.’ Sam tensed, that word made his entire body freeze, and he shook his head sharply. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t do it now, he wasn’t strong enough. As if he understood, Castiel pressed a kiss to his forehead.

‘Okay, we don’t have to talk anymore now. Thank you for trusting me, Sam.’ He rose his head to the Angel, kissed him lightly, and then hesitated.

‘Will you stay tonight?’ They hadn't done that yet, Sam had never wanted Cas to see how bad his nightmares got, but he didn’t think he could be alone right now.

‘Of course. Sleep, I’ll watch over you.’


	6. Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to Jody's

Castiel was worried. He sat in the back of the Impala next to Sam, the Hunter sleeping curled up on his lap, as Dean drove them to Jody’s. It was supposed to be a relaxing time, a holiday, one that Sam definitely needed. Three days after the last attack, three days since Sam had yet again been hurt and Castiel hadn't been able to stop it. Dean had tried to talk to Sam, as had Mary, because both had figured out the spell was a reproduction spell. Both had figured out that Sam had to…

It made him sick. Sam thought so little of himself, kept trying to blame himself. Castiel was so proud, so proud that Sam had admitted to what the British Men of Letters’ woman had done to him. Proud that Sam had trusted him with such a thing. It was small, but it was a good start. Castiel could deal with it taking time, he was an Angel. Time was one thing that wasn’t an issue.

Jody greeted them warmly, even Mary, but she was evidently concerned about Sam. Her eyes looked from the Hunter to Castiel, who gave a slight nod. There was an issue, and maybe Jody would be good for Sam. She had mothered both the boys, Sam especially, and he could do with someone to care for him. Not that Mary didn’t, it was just evident that she found it easier to speak to Dean than Sam.

‘Hey you, how are you feeling?’ Jody asked, pulling Sam in for a hug. He hugged her back, a smile on his face as she squeezed him tightly.

‘Better, thanks. How’s work?’ He inquired, and Castiel noted how he didn’t flinch when she placed a hand on the small of his back and led him to the house. The Angel smiled, caught Dean staring at them as well, and Mary’s wistful look. So, perhaps Mary did want to be as much of a part in Sam’s life as she was in Dean’s.

‘Oh, you know, the same. Right, Alex is away so I’ve got a double and single in her room for you boys, and Claire’s room if that’s alright…’ She asked, looking to Mary, who nodded quickly. The Angel watched the boys head to Alex’s room, then he realised the predicament. Evidently, the double bed was meant for Sam and him to share. But, apart from that one night, that didn’t usually happen. Dean noted it as well, looking to Sam who had frozen on the spot. Of course, Castiel would never push such a thing. He wouldn’t do that to Sam.

‘Mind sharing?’ Sam inquired, flicking his gaze to Castiel like he expected him to say no. He nodded, trying to keep the happiness off of his face. Sam turned back to the bed, and the Angel allowed himself a grin, finding Dean shaking his head with a fond smile on his face.

**

It was later, after dinner, and the elder Winchesters were seated next to Castiel in the kitchen. Dean was drinking beer, Mary drinking a glass of wine, and Castiel had opted for water. He didn’t need it, but he actually was coming to enjoy some of the more humane things that the Winchesters did. They were watching Sam and Jody, who were out in the yard, Jody seated on the bench and Sam on the floor in front, head resting against her knees as she ran fingers through his hair.

‘He told me about the British Men of Letters.’ Castiel blurted, watching his boyfriend’s soul shine as Jody tended to him. Dean turned, raising an eyebrow at him like he wanted Cas to continue. The Angel hesitated, knowing that Mary already suspected, but Dean was still blind to what was right in front of him. Maybe that was the help that Sam needed, for Dean to know and understand.

‘She drugged him. Hallucinations.’ He didn’t say what, because it wasn’t his story to tell, but Dean just stared at his brother.

‘I wish he’d talk to me.’ Dean said quietly, and Castiel was surprised by the amount of emotion in the words. Mary nudged Dean, pointing outside, and the trio looked out.

**

‘Oh Sam, come here.’ Jody’s arms wrapped around him, and Sam found himself crying for the second time in three days. He had tried to keep a straight face as he explained what happened, trying to explain how he held off, but it didn’t work. Hands stroked his hair, Jody’s scent keeping his heartrate calm despite the closeness. He stayed, head pressed to her shoulder as she comforted him.

‘Was it… was it the first time?’ The question made him shiver, and it was answer enough for the woman, who pulled him tighter, pressing a kiss to his head.

‘Sam Winchester, you are not to blame for what happened. Never. Nobody deserves that.’ Deep down, his heart clenched at the words, but he knew that he couldn’t accept that.

‘Not even the boy who started the apocalypse?’ He muttered, and Jody pulled away, stared at him like he was mad. Her hands reached for either side of his face, tilting it so he had to look in her eyes.

‘Yes. Nobody deserves that. Nobody.’ The Sheriff looked fierce as she spoke it, and Sam nodded, lowered his head to rest on her thigh.

‘Thank you, Jody.’ She smiled, took hold of his hand and kept it close. He loved Jody, he really did, because she was the Mother-figure that he had needed when he didn’t have one. For Dean, Jody had never replaced their Mom. But Sam hadn't met Mary, not until Amara brought her back, so Sam had found a mother in the woman who lost her son.

‘How are you and Castiel?’ The woman inquired, and Sam felt his heart pick up just from the thought of the blue-eyed Angel. He smiled slightly, remembered how good it had felt to sleep next to him.

‘I think we might be improving.’ He said honestly, and he didn’t need to look up to know that Jody was smiling.

**

The holiday was useful. Castiel woke every morning with Sam curled to his side, even though the human went to sleep on the other side of the bed. Dean had watched Sam toss and turn during a nightmare, relax when Sam rolled across to Castiel. He curled his arm around the waist of his boyfriend, and Sam had sighed, relaxed into the Angel. It was cute, Castiel thought, and he saw Dean smiling as well.

Sam looked happier. Brighter. He was easier to speak to, quicker to laugh, and even was more open to Mary and Dean. Castiel couldn’t help but see how easy it was for Sam to relax, and was surprised when Sam didn’t hesitate to hold hands, to hug, and even accept kisses to the cheek. Jody would spend the evenings with Sam, and they would talk about things that Castiel knew was taking away the guilt that rested on Sam’s soul. After all, who was he to judge?


	7. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Sam do some bonding. Sam does some plotting. Then some saving

They were back in the Bunker, after five days away at Jody’s home. Sam had brought his happy attitude back, which was good for Castiel, who was less worried about Sam’s soul. The boy seemed happier, brighter, and that was good. Of course, as Hunters, trouble was never far away. Hence why the four of them were seated in the Bunker library, the King of Hell also in the room, explaining how he had found out that Asmodeus had Gabriel.

Had tortured Gabriel, stolen the Archangel’s Grace. Every word darkened Sam’s soul, every word made the Bunker tense. Crowley, having lost the loyalty of many Demons, needed assistance to rescue the Trickster. Dean, about to argue that it was not the biggest issue, then noted how Sam was taking the news.

‘How do we get Gabriel out?’ He asked quietly, and Sam smiled slightly. Crowley looked to Sam, and Castiel noted a glance that he should have asked about, would later regret, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, the five people discussed how they would sneak into Hell, how they would find Gabriel and bring him back to the Bunker. Then, maybe they had the power needed to take down the Devil.

It was agreed that they would go to Hell, Crowley would provide the distraction for Asmodeus to get away. Mary would stay by the gates, the three of them getting to the throne room. Sam was responsible for reaching the Archangel, and the other two would keep watch. The plan was secured, and Crowley agreed that he would also help them take down Lucifer.

**

Sam made sure the others were gone, looking to the King of Hell and gesturing to the room. Sam, as ever, knew that they needed a backup. And Sam, well, he knew Lucifer. Too well, but enough that he knew the Devil would be three steps ahead. And he also knew that Lucifer wouldn’t go down easily.

‘I have a plan. One that stays between you, me and Rowena.’ Sam started, the King of Hell glancing around before he took a step closer.

‘I’m listening.’

**

The group were ready to leave the Bunker. Sam stayed close to Castiel and Dean, especially when they were in Hell. The shouts and running Demons were enough to prove that Crowley had held up on his end of the bargain, and Sam moved through with ease. He didn’t need a map, he knew Hell like the back of his hand. Lucifer had know every tunnel and turn, and Sam had had one-hundred and eighty years to listen to his descriptions.

It had settled. He moved quietly, and if Dean and Castiel were concerned that he knew how to get around Hell, they didn’t say anything. Sam reached the room, gestured to Castiel and Dean to take lead. There were only three Demons, so he left those and went to the Cage. Sure enough, there was a body curled up in the corner. Dirty, torn up and beaten. The Cage opened with the Key that Crowley had provided, and Sam crept in.

The Archangel looked awful. Lips sewn up, but he stared at Sam with a burning curiosity, like he hadn't been broken entirely. Castiel was in charge of recovering the Grace, or what Asmodeus hadn't drunk, and that meant he would be able to heal. Gabriel looked to him as Sam shuffled forwards, and the Winchester knew exactly what to do.

He lowered his eyes, bowing his head in a show of submission. He stretched his hand slowly, offering it out carefully, but not pushing. It took a couple of minutes, but the Archangel shuffled closer. Sam took the invitation, unlocking the chains and pulling the Archangel close.

‘I know you’re hurt, but you know me, Gabriel. It’s Sam, Moose, the guy that you turned into a car, remember? I’m here to get you out, Castiel’s here as well.’ Names would be useful, and memories had always helped him after Lucifer’s cage. The Trickster offered out his hands, and Sam scooped him up close.

‘Breathe deeply, use scents to ground yourself.’ Sam advised, knowing it was always the best way to stop him from thinking about his attacker. Sam left the Cage, looking to the two in the room and the three dead bodies. They glanced to Gabriel, who whimpered slightly, and Sam tilted his neck. Gabriel took his advice, shuffling closer, and Sam felt the Trickster’s body relax. That was good, he thought, and nodded.

The two led the way, Sam carrying the Archangel through Hell. Mary met them, glancing to the boy that Sam was carrying, the man.

**

Sam led the Archangel to the bathroom, settled him down onto the sink as he filled the bath that they had installed. The Archangel flinched slightly at the sound of water, but he watched Sam closely, and the Hunter didn’t show any sign of hesitancy. He knew that look, had been there, and he wasn’t going to leave Gabriel to deal with it alone.

Lowering the Archangel into the bath, keeping contact so that he wouldn’t be scared, Sam raised the first rag to his skin.

‘You’re safe now, Gabriel. I promise.’

The Trickster looked up, Golden eyes staring at him curiously, and Sam felt guilt creep in. He didn’t want to make the Angel nervous, so he started talking. As he raised the rags to the man’s skin, watching the water turn dirty as he washed him, he began to tell the story of what happened since Gabriel had left.

Stories about Hunting, about Lucifer leaving the Cage, about him and Castiel. About Mom coming back. He kept washing, rinsing the bath out three times before he managed to convince the Archangel to let him wash his hair. Gabriel recognised him, that much was clear, but he didn’t stop flinching.

‘After this, I’ll take the stitches out.’ Sam promised, before turning as the door opened. Castiel came in, carrying a pile of clothes and some fresh towels. He smiled to Sam, who smiled back, leaving the clothes on the floor. Gabriel watched him go, as did Sam, before the two made eye contact. Sam laughed when Gabriel slowly wiggled his eyebrows, and the Archangel looked even more pleased that he had made Sam happy.

‘Yeah, he’s pretty good. Deals with me not being able to do sexual stuff.’ He then realised what he’d said, what he’d eluded to, and the Archangel looked shocked. Sam turned his back, cursing his emotions and lack of filter.

‘Right, time to get out.’ He stated, refusing to meet those golden eyes again.


	8. Power of Speech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel friendship. Sexy times for Sastiel

Sam hummed to himself, cleaning away the dirt from under the Trickster’s nails. He had finished washing, dressing and un-sewing his lips. Gabriel hadn't tried to talk, but he didn’t flinch when Sam touched him anymore, which was nice. After finishing with his hands, Sam explained that he was going to do his beard, and reached for shaving cream. Gabriel nodded slowly, shifting so that Sam could move closer. It felt nice, having someone else to take care of so that he didn’t have to worry about himself.

Applying the cream, he reached for the razor. Golden eyes watched him, but didn’t pull away as he moved the warm water close.

‘Dean took away all my sharp objects after Hell. Especially once the memories came back.’ Sam stated, remembering the press of a gun against his temple and the utter fear that he wouldn’t be strong enough to withstand the hallucinations. Here, in this room, he knew that the Trickster wouldn’t hurt him, nor judge him.

‘He meant well, and honestly, I don’t think I would be alive if he hadn't.’ Sam admitted the truth aloud for the first time, felt it sit in the air, but not uncomfortably. He worked the razor against Gabriel’s cheek, careful not to nick the skin.

‘I’m not saying you’ll be fine right away, but it gets better.’ He assured the Angel, surprised when a hand closed over his. He looked to the Gold eyes, burning slightly and Sam gave a smile. The Trickster looked unsure, but his lips tugged up at the corners, and Sam continued. They stayed in silence, occasional words from Sam about small things he thought the Archangel would appreciate.

‘Thank you. I never said it before, but thank you. Without your help, we would never have got Lucifer back in the Cage.’ Sam remembered the moment he thought Gabriel was dead, felt the weight of another death on his soul. Remembered that Gabriel had just been doing what he thought was right, like Sam when he joined with Ruby. It had been for a purpose, even if the end result was bad.

‘No.’ Sam’s head shot up, staring at the lips of the Archangel, unsure whether he had just imagined that. Gabriel shook his head sharply, staring at Sam like he was mad.

‘Why… why a-are you thanking me? Y-you…’

‘Ended up in the Cage?’ Sam said softly, surprised by the compassion in the eyes of the Angel. Gabriel gave a jerky nod, looking tense as he spoke, like he feared punishment for it.

‘It was a small price to pay for the good of everyone else. And anyway, I wasn’t innocent.’ Sam thought back to the dark blood dripping down his throat, the hunger that had been felt, his mind reaching out to do things far beyond the power that anybody else had. Gabriel didn’t speak again, and Sam finished up shaving and cleaning his face. The Archangel’s hair was softer, longer than when they had last met, but still suited him.

‘Castiel is going to bring your Grace, and you can choose whether or not you want to drink it.’ Sam would never force the issue, knew that Gabriel had to make the decision for himself. It was vital, something that had helped Sam after he got back from Lucifer’s Cage. Sure enough, just as he finished the sentence, Castiel came into the room. He carried the two vials they had managed to recover, looking between Sam and the Angel on the bed before handing the vials to the Hunter.

Sam turned, making sure that Gabriel could see his Grace, and placed them down onto the bed in front of the Trickster. He cocked his head, like he was unsure of whether or not it was a trick.

‘We can move him to one of the spare rooms…’ Castiel trailed off, and Sam shook his head slightly.

‘He can stay in mine, if you’re alright with me joining you?’ He inquired, looking to his boyfriend hesitantly. Just because they had been doing it for a while, didn’t mean that the Angel would necessarily want him again now. Castiel smiled, stepping forward to take Sam’s hand. Sam prided himself with the lack of flinching, although he did have to remind his mind that it was safe, that this was Cas.

‘You know I don’t mind, Sam.’ Castiel stated, but the reassurance was needed for Sam. In fact, he still wasn’t entirely sure that Cas meant it, but the Angel walked away and left the two alone again.

‘He l-loves you.’ Gabriel stuttered, and Sam shook his head firmly. No, the Angel didn’t love him, but it was close to that.

‘Of course not. He just has more patience.’ Sam couldn’t ever think that, couldn’t let it get that far, because the last person who had said that…

‘H-he said it-t.’ Gabriel assumed, and Sam looked down to the Golden eyes studying him. Sam thought to the icy-blue eyed Devil, to the way he smirked as he said it, carving down into his flesh.

‘I’m supposed to be looking after you, Gabriel. Rest. Think about the Grace. And if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here.’ He gave a bright smile, one that wasn’t entirely fake, and left the room.

**

He lay in bed, head rested against the Angel’s stomach, thinking about what he had done with Crowley and the Witch. He didn’t want to, no, he couldn’t survive that. But, as much as he wanted to believe that Dean’s plan would work, his head told him it wouldn’t. He’d seen every part of Lucifer’s mind, seen every trick and plan, and knew that the Archangel wouldn’t go down easily. Only a like-minded individual could beat him, and who better than his True Vessel?

Castiel lightly ran fingers through his hair, and Sam hummed slightly under the touch. It was comforting to have him this close, to have someone who he could relax with. He just worried that it wouldn’t be enough, that he wouldn’t be enough, and that the Angel would leave him. After all, why would an Angel of the Lord be interested in him?

‘I can hear you thinking, Sam. Something on your mind?’ Castiel inquired, voice light although Sam knew that he wanted an answer to the question. Taking a breath and telling himself that the Angel would understand, he spoke quietly,

‘He told me he loved me. Lucifer, I mean.’ Silence in the room, but the hand stroking his hair didn’t stop. The comforting touch stopped the nausea threatening to rise in his stomach, and the Angel spoke softly,

‘That isn’t love, Sam. What you deserve is love, and that isn’t it.’ Sam nodded slowly, and rested his head over his boyfriend’s heart, listening to the Vessel’s heartbeat. It was soothing, and eventually, Sam found himself fully relaxed, settled between Castiel’s legs. It was oddly intimate, despite the fact that nothing was happening, and it made a mixture of fear and arousal curl in his stomach.

‘Come here, Sam.’ Castiel stated, eyes hooded, and Sam obliged. His lips hit warmth, a hand lowering to the small of his back as Sam kissed the Angel. It felt good, but not nearly enough, and the kiss deepened as Cas nipped at his bottom lip. When Sam pulled back, Cas’s pupils had expanded, breath was heavier, and Sam thought he must look similar. When he lowered his head again, it became more frenzied, lips moving and teeth clashing, nipping at skin as they shuffled up so that Sam was sitting in Cas’s lap.

The Angel’s shirt came off, Sam’s hands roaming down the plane of muscle, tweaking his boyfriend’s nipples as he passed them. Castiel let out the most delectable sound, a gasp that Sam swallowed down hungrily, before someone knocked on the door.

His lips swollen, he pulled back, blushing darkly. Castiel chuckled, grabbed his shirt, and Sam went to the door. His brother stood on the other side, smirking slightly when he took in Sam’s expression and the tousled hair. Sam looked away, and Dean grinned.

‘C’mon, lovebirds. We’ve got an Apocalypse to stop.’


	9. The Devil in Disguise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luci's chapter

The house was empty. Unless dead bodies counted, which the Devil supposed they might. He stood amongst the carnage, quite unsure how it had got this bloody. All he had wanted was a way to stay solid, yet very few humans could sustain him for a long time. He had ripped through the family, first reaching the youngest daughter. She had lasted for minutes, before she had unfortunately exploded thirty seconds after he had entered.

Parts of her body had ended up covering the dining room. It was unfortunate, but Lucifer could deal with the guilt, moving on to the eldest. He was the grandfather of the prior vessel, and managed to contain him for long enough for Lucifer to calm the family down, before his skin peeled and Lucifer burnt out of the corpse. When he finally reached the mother of the family, he was surprised to find he could stay. Tying down the only alive family member, the father, he admired his work.

Seven bodies, plus one tied up, sat in the dining room. They weren’t really sat, per say, more spread out across the room. Smeared along the walls, parts of the body on the plates the family had been eating off of. Grim, he thought with a smirk. Then, he had worn out the female vessel, and had hopped onto the last. This one could probably last for a couple of days, especially if he worked for it.

Lucifer wasn’t hiding. No, that wasn’t his intention. He just so happened to enjoy the thrill of running, of sending the Hunters on wild goose chases. Free of the Cage, Lucifer was looking forward to his confrontation with the Winchesters. In fact, he thought it would be brilliant. He wanted to see Sam. Wanted to be back with his Vessel, to have him close.

Many would call Lucifer obsessive. He thought of it as love. Sam Winchester was incredible, brilliantly minded, and the only person that Lucifer had underestimated. Smart, strong, and incredible. He loved the Winchester, loved his Vessel, his infatuation showed no bounds. Down in Hell, Lucifer had been thoroughly in control. He had access to everything he wanted, to Sam, but he had lost him.

He had to play this right. Sam, like him, was quick-thinking. He had no doubt that Sam could beat him, but the Devil had an advantage. Sam was terrified, haunted from the Cage, and would do anything to save his brother. And now, to rub salt into the abandonment that Lucifer felt, he had heard that the Angel Castiel was dallying with HIS Vessel. He would kill him, rip him apart slowly, make him suffer for touching Sam.

It all depended how far they went. If Castiel had… Lucifer could not bring himself to think of it. He couldn’t bear the thought, didn’t want anyone touching his love. His perfect, crafted Vessel. He had spent all that time in the Cage with Sam, only for the progress to be reversed once Sam escaped. Of course, Lucifer was going to amend that. He had no intention of letting Sam go again.

He had convinced them to let him out, piggy-backing off of Castiel, and had been running ever since. He avoided the King of Hell, not ready for the confrontation, and had avoided his Dad when he came to see Amara. Thoughts had crossed him, thoughts about what he was going to do, but he wasn’t sure. Honestly, he had thought about a child. A Nephilim, to ruin the Heavens and Hell. But then, he realised that that would mean cheating on his True Vessel.

Just because Sam had cheated on him, did not mean that Lucifer would stoop to his level. He would be, how to put it, the bigger man. It was, after all, his job to ensure that Sam remained his perfect Vessel. He would break him down slowly, take his time to tear Sam apart, revel in everything he had missed. The boy’s mouth, his tight hole, his unbelievably smart mind. Everything was his, there was nothing on Sam that he hadn't seen.

He took a shower, stripping down and admiring his new Vessel. It was nothing like his old one, he wanted that one back, if he was honest. It was the one he had used in the Cage, used to rip Sam apart. This one was awful, all round around the middle. He was just shy of 6ft, had greying hair, and awfully dull eyes. He watched them flick red, which was better, but he could do better.

The thing was, Lucifer could predict what Dean was going to do. He was too like Michael, not the one in the Cage, not anymore. But, logically, they needed to tie Lucifer down. He knew that Rowena had found his body, Nick, and knew that they were preparing to tie him down. What they didn’t know was that Lucifer was preparing for that, preparing to take Sam when they least expected it.

Sam. The beautiful, stunning Vessel. The man that brought him down, that outsmarted him. He couldn’t wait to see him again, to have access to that man. Sam, even though he would never admit it, would fall at his feet.

**

He wandered down the street, hating the fact that his Vessel was this large. Perhaps he should swap, no. Patience, he told himself, thinking about Sam’s body. He could wait, he would wait. The tailor looked at him as he walked into the shop, possibly still having the remnants of the family in his hair. He didn’t care, the Devil had better things to do than worry about a Tailor’s opinion. He needed a suit for Nick’s vessel, so that he could look smart when he went to claim Sam.

They had much to discuss. And Lucifer would talk to his Vessel, after stripping him down and making his beg, tied down spread eagled out across a bed. He would make Sam understand how much he loved him, how much he wished that Sam desired him back. And, a positive, if Nick became permanent, then he could stay with Sam. He didn’t need Sam as a Vessel, because he would have a permanent one, and Michael was trapped in the Cage.

They could be together. Of course, it may take a while for Sam to break, but he would. No human could withstand him forever, even though Sam had managed for one-hundred-and-eighty years so far. Pondering on the thought, he gave the tailor Nick’s sizes, asking for the best looking suit, and waistcoat, he could. Shoes included, neatly pressed shirt, and assurance he would be back soon. He wouldn’t be paying, oh no, he would kill the tailor, but for now, he could have some money.

Handing across the cash, the Devil thought to his Vessel, and smiled. Soon, he thought.


	10. Enochian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel friendship

‘A-Asmodeus.’ Gabriel stuttered, and Sam nodded sympathetically. He understood, even if they dealt with small words. They were in Sam’s room, the two seated on the bed talking about what had happened between them and their captors.

‘H-hurt. Drained my Grace.’ Gabriel stated slowly, gesturing to the nick on his neck. Sam stared at it, knew how painful it must have been. Gabriel had drunk his two vials, and Sam knew he was gaining strength, but the Archangel was being more open.

‘How did he find you?’ Sam said softly, cutting up more of the grilled cheese on toast that he had made for the Archangel. He passed some across, having to hold the plate because of how shaky Gabriel’s hands were. Gabriel took a piece, raising it to his lips and chewing slowly. He wasn’t used to being able to eat, it was clear, and Sam passed the smoothie with the straw. His friend smiled at him, before he spoke again.

‘L-Loki. S-sold me out-t.’ Sam felt the betrayal, knew how much Gabriel was hurt.

‘He’ll pay.’ Sam assured, willing to aid the Archangel in getting revenge. Gabriel’s eyebrows shot up, but he gave a small smile.

‘W-wasn’t s-sexual.’ Gabriel stated, and Sam realised they were going back to what happened with Asmodeus. Sam looked to him, waiting to see if Gabriel was going to expand on that.

‘H-humiliation. But not sexual.’ Sam nodded, he could understand how that must have felt for a creature so powerful, to being degraded like that. Gabriel slowly stretched his hand out, and Sam watched in awe as the cuts and bruises on it began to heal. When he had done the arm, he sunk back, apparently exhausted. Sam, not willing to let Gabriel sink further into his post-capture depression, smiled.

‘Hey, that was great! See, I told you your Grace would come back.’ Sam beamed, trying to show his hope, and the Archangel chuckled slightly.

‘Tell m-me about Cassie. Your relations-ship.’ Gabriel said, and Sam leant back against the wall.

‘It started after I got back from the Cage. It… I always thought he preferred Dean. Still do, sometimes. But Castiel told me that he felt something different, something more… physical, than he did with Dean.’ Gabriel smiled softly, and Sam looked away.

‘B-because of the o-others?’ He questioned, and Sam knew that he was inquiring as to why he didn’t like the physical side. Sam looked to the Archangel, the man he had washed and cleaned and looked after over the past week, and decided he owed him trust. And he did trust him.

‘It started with Brady. One off, but he said he was sorry. Then Ruby, then… well. You know.’ He couldn’t admit to it, partly because he was worried they would figure out it wasn’t just Lucifer. It was bad enough that Lucifer had made him his bitch, but he had been that to the eldest Archangel as well. For that reason, he couldn’t say it aloud.

‘S-sorry.’ Sam shook his head sharply. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to ever acknowledge it. Gabriel stared at him for a long time, studying him curiously.

‘You b-blame yourself.’ It wasn’t a question, but Sam still nodded. It was his fault, he deserved it. Deserved worse than that. Gabriel sighed, looked away, and the silence was comfortable.

**

Gabriel was with his brother, looking around the library in the Bunker. Castiel looked rather good in those tight jeans, Sam thought, watching as he bent over to get a book from one of the lower shelves. Yes, Sam thought, that should be illegal.

‘Dude, eyes.’ Dean snapped, and Sam blushed. His brother grinned though, shuffling closer so it was evident that he wanted to talk. That was enough to make Sam tense, although he tried not to show it. He knew his soul must have changed, because both Angels glanced across, before turning back to the bookshelves.

‘What’s up?’ He inquired casually, like he wasn’t dying on the inside.

‘I wanted to check on you. Just… you’re alright? Oh, so Dean was concerned. He felt guilty, like he was worrying his brother for no reason. He grimaced, mentally cursing himself for not trying harder. He just needed to grow up, to stop acting like a child in front of Dean. Compared to others, he had been through nothing. And, to make it worse, he had deserved what he had got.

The Angels were definitely watching now, and Sam had to fight to gain control of his mind. Sometimes, it was like he could hear Lucifer in his mind, could hear the voice calling him out on anything.

‘Yeah, I’m good. Especially once this… Devil stuff is sorted.’ The name was hard to say, still made his stomach twist, and so he settled for a simple version. Mom came into the room, spotted the two of them talking and smiled. Sam smiled back, watching her take her seat.

‘We’re working on a plan.’ Dean stated, while Sam listened to Gabriel curse fluently in Enochian as he dropped a book on his foot. Sam burst out laughing, turning to look at the Trickster.

‘Seriously?’ He inquired, liking the **“I’m going to screw all of these books”** comment from the Archangel. He seemed surprised, like he hadn't expected Sam to understand. Sam had learnt while in the Cage, and technically, he could speak it. He just chose not to, knowing that whenever he did in the Cage, his tongue was usually removed from his mouth.

‘Shut it, Sammoose.’ The nicknames were a good sign, as was the lack of stutter, so Sam was too busy smiling to be insulted. With Gabriel on their side, maybe they would be able to beat the Devil without having to revert back to Sam’s really bad plan. He grinned, accepted the beer from his brother, and settled down with his family.

**

‘Brady was the first. I didn’t know he was a Demon.’ Sam stated, enjoying being the little spoon. Arms were wrapped around his waist, hugging at his stomach. Castiel’s head was tucked against his neck, breath warm against his skin, and they were both more undressed than they had ever been in this situation. Sam, dressed in an undershirt and sweatpants, Castiel in boxers and a vest.

‘What happened?’ His boyfriend inquired, tracing circles on his stomach above the clothes.

‘It was a party, and he… got drunk. He apologised, but…’ Sam knew now that he hadn't been drunk, because it was a Demon. That night had just been the start of an issue that would continue throughout his life.

‘But he did it. And it was wrong.’ Castiel firmly said, and Sam rested back against him. That hadn't been awful, he thought. Maybe he was healing.


	11. Seizures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer speaks to Sam, and Dean frightens Gabriel

**_‘Hey there, Sammy!’ Sam blinked back the sleep in his eyes, adjusting to the bright levels of light in the room. He was in a house, a kitchen, and someone was standing in front of him. Around 6ft, dressed in what could only be described as a Banker’s suit, greying hair dyed to a darker, richer brown. His eyes were a dull shade of brown as well, but they were lifeless, like he was looking at a corpse. All of this, of course, did not stop Sam from recognising the person._ **

**_‘Lucifer.’ The creature that had ruined him, that had made him kill Bobby and Cas and beat Dean to within an inch of his life. That had screamed and shouted and burned, ruling over the Cage and the three inhabitants that had joined him down there. The Devil, who Castiel had released because of Sam, and now was burning through people. All those deaths were on his hands, all that blood dripping off his fingers and burrowing into his soul, a permanent blemish within him._ **

**_‘Did you miss me, Bunk Buddy?’ The man inquired, that signature cocky smirk on his face despite the new Vessel. Sam found his heart beating loudly, was vaguely aware that it felt like his body had dropped, yet he was still standing, facing his worst nightmare. The thing that resided in the back of his mind, forever proof that Sam Winchester was nothing more than the Abomination._ **

**_‘Why are you here?’ He stated, then realised it was stupid. Lucifer, of course, wasn’t real. This was a dream, and Sam was stuck in it. He had no doubt that this was Lucifer’s current Vessel, no doubt that this house belonged to the man that he was wearing. Sam, despite never mentioning it to anyone who lived with him in the Bunker, had always felt the connection between him and the Devil. Had always felt the bond, the one he so desperately wanted to sever, holding them together tightly._ **

**_‘I missed you, Sammy. It was so lonely, in the Cage, without you. Michael just isn’t any fun anymore.’ The Devil hummed, perching himself on top of the kitchen counter, watching the dripping sink. Sam knew that the last bit was true, Michael had lasted for even less time than Sam had. It only took about one-hundred and thirty years before the Soldier of Heaven lost his mind, resulting in him curling in the corner of the Cage, listening to Lucifer’s every command._ **

**_‘You’re killing people.’ He snapped, feeling the anger rise as he stared at those brown eyes. In some ways, he was glad Lucifer no longer looked like Nick. It was hard to stomach, seeing him like that, seeing the man that had tortured him to insanity. But Sam knew Lucifer, knew that this Vessel wasn’t going to stop him from making his life a living Hell. Ironic, he thought._ **

**_It was then that he became aware of how sore his body was, aching and painful, like his muscles were all too tense. He raised a hand to his nose, watched as the ends of his fingers came back red. Lucifer looked amused, like he knew what was happening, but Sam would not give him the satisfaction._ **

**_‘We’re going to kill you.’ Sam assured the Devil, assured himself, as he stared at him. Lucifer barked a laugh, hopping down from the counter and walking to the door that was closed. His fingers, chubby with a wedding band around his fourth finger, trailed the handle._ **

**_‘If you think you can stop me, Sammy, why don’t you see what you’ve been missing?’ The Devil swung the door open, and Sam fought the urge to gag. The smell of rotting flesh was the first thing that hit him, but Sam didn’t let it prevent him from getting the information he needed. He walked into the room, grimacing at the squelch under his foot as he stood in what was presumably one of the seven bodies in the room._ **

**_He tried not to focus on the child’s sippy cup on the table, or the family photos that were smeared with blood, or the way that the eldest sibling, or what was left of him, was reaching for the smallest corpse in the room. Sam felt the horror, felt the utter pain that the family must have been in. He wasn’t surprised that they were dead, Lucifer was such a strong Angel to hold, but he was surprised that the current Vessel was working so well._ **

**_‘You can’t have long in that body.’ Sam stated, staring back at the burnt-out eyes of the mother. She, evidently, had lasted slightly longer. He could tell, just by the way her facial expression had shifted into something of horror, like the horror of watching her entire family explode._ **

**_‘I have enough time, Sammy. Don’t you worry.’ Lucifer stated, fingers brushing down his back, and sure enough, it was freezing. The coldness had always surprised him, had always made it easier to tell what was real and what was false, and Sam was glad of it. He pulled away, ignoring the mocking laughter ringing out in his head, and urged his body to wake._ **

**

Castiel had been horrified when Sam started moving. At first glance, he thought he was awake, but then his body had seized up and started flailing. Castiel shouted for Dean, shoving the bed out of the way of the large room he had adopted as his own, staring at his boyfriend who was fitting. His hair was stuck to his face, eyes rolled back, and Castiel could see the dark stain attacking his soul.

Dean came skidding into the room, Mary in close pursuit. The two made it to Sam’s side, Mary cradling his head as Dean looked to Castiel, neither of them sure what to do.

‘It’s Lucifer.’ A voice stated, and they turned to see Gabriel in the doorway. His golden eyes were glowing slightly, and Castiel moved out of the way as his brother crouched down, peering at him.

‘Lucifer’s attempting to contact him.’ Gabriel explained, fingers lightly brushing Sam’s temple. The boy was still jerking, but now his nose was bleeding, and Castiel felt his heart clench. Noting his concern, the Archangel took a step back.

‘What should we do?’ Dean demanded, still staring at his brother, and Castiel could feel the heartbreak from here.

‘Nothing. There isn’t anything you can do.’ Gabriel stated calmly, although he flinched when Dean whirled to him. The anger in Dean’s eyes was enough to make Castiel flinch, so it didn’t surprise him when his brother sunk down, scrambling back into the corner of the room and moaning quietly, wrapped up in fear. Mary scowled at Dean, leaving Sam’s side and slowly approaching him. Castiel hated the sound Gabriel made, so utterly scared and broken that Castiel couldn’t quite believe he was an Archangel.

‘Let me.’ That caused the Angel to jump, as did the other two humans in the room, who turned to see Sam sitting up. He wiped the blood, shuffling out of the way and past Dean, who looked ready to argue. Mary, however, moved back and Sam looked to the Archangel.

**

Sam had woken up, realised he’d been fitting, then heard the pained sound of his friend. He did the logical thing, moving between Gabriel and the person most likely to make him afraid, Dean. It wasn’t that Dean was scary, but he understood that Dean didn’t always know how to handle people’s emotions. Carefully, Sam stripped off the over shirt he had been wearing, keeping his head down as he offered it out.

They had done this before. Gabriel, trusting enough to reach out and take the shirt, brought it to his face. The whimpering and shaking stopped, but the wide eyes that showed fear didn’t. Sam knew this was his invitation, moving forwards and tilting his head to the side. Gabriel latched on, arms wrapping around him and face burrowing into his neck.

‘Shh, you’re okay, you’re safe now.’ Sam assured his friend, who mumbled something that was probably an apology. That made Sam smile, standing up with the Archangel still in his arms, and took him out of the room. His room, Gabriel’s room at the moment, was the one he stopped out, carrying the Trickster and placing him down on the bed.

‘Did Lucifer hurt you?’ Gabriel inquired, voice steadier now, and Sam shook his head. They both knew that that was worse, knowing that Lucifer was trying to be kind.

‘Won’t let him touch you.’ Gabriel muttered, head starting to droop. Sam chuckled, tucked the Archangel in, then turned to find Castiel in the door. Sam knew they would need to talk, needed to discuss what was happening with Lucifer. But honestly, if they never had to deal with the Devil again, Sam would happily think this Heaven.


	12. Cockblock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean being a cockblock

Sam didn’t point out that he already knew about the family of eight. Well, seven dead, considering Lucifer was using one. The team were all there, even Crowley and Rowena, discussing their plan. No, Dean’s plan. Sam was keeping his hidden, not wanting them to find out what he had planned. Something dangerous, something that was going to be used if everything else went wrong.

Truth be told, Sam was still terrified of the bond he shared with Lucifer. Sitting here, listening to the plan, he could already understand what Lucifer would do. Could predict his movements, could see Lucifer needing a permanent vessel. Sure, by putting Lucifer in Nick’s Vessel, they could try to restrain his Grace, but that was what Lucifer was predicting.

He looked to Gabriel, who was staring back at him, like he could read his mind. Of course, Gabriel was the second-best person in the room to predict the Devil. He, like Sam, knew this wasn’t going to work. So, Sam gave a slight nod, an assurance that this plan had to happen. The Devil needed a permanent Vessel for Sam’s plan to work, and so he would allow Dean to tie Lucifer to Nick. He would allow it, knowing that it was highly unlikely that Lucifer was going to be sent back to the Cage by the spell Rowena was attempting.

The Witch knew his plan. As did the King of Hell. They would, of course, talk more about it later. That would be needed, in order for Sam to understand exactly what he had to do.

‘Eight burnt out Vessels…’ Dean began, the group talking about the Stevenson family, who had been the ones that Lucifer had attacked. He had made it seem like their was eight, even though Lucifer knew Sam knew about the Vessels. It was because Lucifer needed Sam to show the bond between them, needed the group to worry. That was alright, because sometimes, Lucifer forgot that Sam was just as smart, just as quick-witted.

‘Seven.’ He corrected, tracing his thumb over the edge of the beer bottle.

‘I thought…’ Mom began, and Sam didn’t bother looking up. He remembered the squish of the flesh beneath his foot, the smell of the bodies.

‘Lucifer would use one as a Vessel. The male in the household, probably.’ He didn’t point out that he had seen it, seen Lucifer’s Vessel. Dean continued to talk, to plan how they were going to work the sigils on Nick’s body so that they could keep Lucifer in the vessel. Sam, however, was remembering the Cage. Of course, he didn’t go too deeply, just skimming over the memories to try and figure out what he was going to do. To figure out what Lucifer was going to do.

**

‘I saw it.’ Sam admitted, lying on his back staring up at the ceiling. Castiel had his arm around his waist, settled next to him, and the two were both in bed. It was probably early morning, close to midnight, and the Bunker was quiet. The day after tomorrow, the group were going to go and summon Lucifer. To be safe, Sam was staying in the Bunker. Gabriel had had the chance to stay as well, but he had declined. Sam hadn't argued, knowing it wasn’t worth doing.

‘The bodies?’ Castiel asked, looking to him. Sam nodded, thinking back to the smallest girl lying on the floor, body burnt out and her brother reaching out for her.

‘Lucifer… he gets inside my head.’ Sam admitted.

‘I won’t let him have you, Sam.’ Castiel sounded angry, and Sam smiled, looking up to his boyfriend. He understood, understood how much it hurt Castiel to see Lucifer free, knowing it was the Angel that had been used as a Vessel. But it wasn’t the Seraph’s fault, it was his, he was the one that had gone to the Cage.

‘Help me forget?’ He inquired, lowering his tone slightly. Castiel seemed surprised, but was more than happy to help. His body rolled on top, the warm weight of the Angel pressing down deliciously on top of him. Sam spread his legs, letting his boyfriend settle between them. He grinned, leaning up to kiss Cas, who kissed back happily. It was slow, but heated, and Sam let his hands roam under the shirt that the Angel was wearing.

He had to admit, Cas was good looking. Sam had never really minded what people looked like, it was a lot easier to connect to someone’s mind, but it was certainly a benefit when the person he was dating looked like… THAT. Castiel, the ever smug Angel, knew exactly what he was doing as he moved his kisses to Sam’s jawline. Sam still remembered the Angel first watching porn, this was certainly a very enjoyable change. Cas was talented, he thought, gasping slightly as his lips hit the pulse point.

Hands moved under his shirt, and for once Sam didn’t flinch, instead enjoyed the hands covering his skin. One spread possessively over his chest, the other sat on his hip, and Sam tried to hold back the blood heading south. Unfortunately, he hadn't… had a lot of time to self-pleasure, hadn't done it since before his time with Toni. That meant, when he had a very good-looking Angel on top of him, it was hard to stop the reaction.

Castiel smirked slightly against his lips, Sam growling in frustration and tugging Castiel’s shirt off. This was okay, they had been here before, and Sam lifted his body as Castiel pulled his off. The Angel paused, searching Sam for any signs of hesitancy. Sam, despite the fact that this was the furthest they had gone, didn’t feel too worried yet. He settled for reaching up for another kiss, the warmth of Cas’s bare chest against his making his body squirm happily.

A thumb brushed across his nipple, just enough to make Sam moan slightly, and Castiel pressed harder between his thighs. The friction was delicious, and Sam arched his hips up to join, quite happy for this to happen. He was in just sweatpants, doing little to hide his obvious excitement, and Castiel was in a similar position. When Sam dug his nails in slightly, just above where Cas’s wings would be, the Angel thrust forward sharply. Sam knew it was uncontrollable, that it was very sensitive, but boy did he want that again.

‘Oh, Sam…’ He groaned, and Sam traced the edges of his shoulder-blades, feeling the shudder spread through the Angel.

‘Again.’ He demanded, blue eyes almost entirely pupil as Sam obliged, digging his nails in. He pushed forwards, hard enough that Sam’s eyes rolled back, the pressure doing wonders. He only realised the sound he had made when he caught the smug glance of the Angel, who was looking particularly pleased with what he had just done.

He was about to lean in for another kiss when there was a knock at the door. Sam groaned in frustration, Castiel certainly seemed to be thinking similar, and Dean spoke from behind the door.

‘Garth’s here, put some clothes on.’


	13. Hello, Sammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam speaks Enochian, visits the floor, then has a hug

Sam couldn’t quite believe what he had said. Garth, for all his appearance, had done something that Sam had failed to do. Scare of the British Men of Letters. Apparently, some of the Hunters had banded together and found Mick Davies, sat down and made the BMoL promise to stay out of the country, especially after the monsters joined the petition and killed a hitman known as Arthur Ketch.

Something that he had failed, had failed miserably, had been succeeded so easily. He tried to tell himself that it was alright, that he couldn’t have anticipated what happened. That he couldn’t stop Toni, because she’d banished Cas and then shot him in the thigh. He still remembered the pain, rubbing over where the bullet wound would have been.

They were drinking. Garth was tucking in to whisky, Dean cheering and clinking cups with him as they began their drink. Sam, however, just settled down and thought. He was happy they were gone, obviously, but he couldn’t help the thought that he should have done something. He was unsurprised when Castiel and Gabriel came to join him, the two Angels chatting in Enochian. If the three drinking hunters found it odd, they didn’t say it aloud.

 **‘Do you think they will come back?’** Gabriel inquired, looking to Sam hesitantly. The Hunter looked away from his family and friend, shaking his head. Castiel continued the conversation, talking about the high-end technology they had. It was an interesting conversation, better than the one that the Hunters were having, and Sam was content to listen.

 **‘Toni was going to be punished by the organisation for what she did.’** Sam stated, trying not to tense as he spoke in the language of his tormentors. He knew he got it right by the surprise on the two Angels’ faces, and felt silently proud.

 **‘You talk like Michael and Lucifer.’** Gabriel admitted, and Sam wasn’t surprised. He had learnt directly from the two.

 **‘I would be surprised if I didn’t.’** Sam returned, the language causing some memories to flicker back. It made him flinch, remembering how exactly he had learnt the language.

 **‘How did you learn?’** Castiel inquired, although Sam noted that he spoke a much more basic form of the language. Perhaps that was why his Enochian was different to them, because he had learnt directly from those two.

 **‘Michael and Lucifer were often in their true forms, it was hard to ignore.’** He remembered the two ripping each other apart, the echoing off the Cage walls that would make him scream and rip off his own ears to try and hide. The two Angels stared at him like he was mad, and truthfully, he probably was. Lucifer’s true form was terrifying, the voice made his ears bleed, but the sight… After the first hundred years, he managed to succeed in not dying when he saw it. Unfortunately, he wished he had. It was terrifying, how stunningly beautiful Lucifer’s true form was. Yet, how utterly petrifying. It made his stomach twist and turn.

‘Stop speaking in Angel language, dude.’ Dean snapped, and Sam turned back to his brother with a smile. He did so, then felt his head spin slightly, and excused himself from the room. He stood, felt his legs threaten to give way, and tried to walk to the door. He wasn’t drunk, he knew that, but he couldn’t figure out what was wrong. He realised quite quickly that he wasn’t going to reach his room, so spun back to Dean.

‘Dean… help.’ He muttered, before his muscles all tensed up and he felt his mind go black.

**

**_‘Sammy! You’re back!’ Lucifer exclaimed. Sam took in the room, regarding the room in which he was standing in. It was a bedroom, a large four-poster bed in the room, a canopy around it. It was old-fashioned, yet remarkable. He looked to the bags in the corner, looked to the logo on the bag. A tailors, of sorts. He wondered what was in the bag, wondered why Lucifer needed a tailor._ **

**_The bigger issue was why Lucifer was stained with blood. It was dark against his shirt, staining it horribly. The Vessel was burning up, but Sam knew he would last until the spell._ **

**_‘I’m back.’ He stated, deadpanned, and looked to the Devil. He was certainly struggling with the Vessel, and Sam figured he wouldn’t be going out in public for a while._ **

**_‘Tell me, Sam, have you been having fun?’ Lucifer’s eyes focused on his neck, and Sam didn’t need to ask to know there was a mark there from his make-out session with Castiel. Lucifer looked mad, really mad, and his anger rose._ **

**_‘Yeah, I was having fun. Kissing, touching…’ He was cut off when a hand wrapped around his throat, began squeezing hard. It was hard to breathe, and he ended up on tip-toes, trying not to show how panicky he was. The Devil’s eyes flicked red, wings echoed out behind him, and Sam knew that he was debating making them physical. That had happened, multiple times, and Sam always fought the urge to cower when he did. The only good thing was that it would ruin his Vessel quicker._ **

**_‘I’m coming, Sam. And you’ll pay for that.’ Sam had no doubt, but the hand around his throat withdrew, and Sam could step back. Lucifer’s eyes flicked back to brown, and he smirked._ **

**

Sam gasped, sitting up sharply as he clutched at his throat, remembering the feel of being strangled. Instead, he found his brother in front of him. He lunged, wrapped his arms around the man that had raised him. Dean hugged back, a rare show of affection, and Sam relaxed. The smell of home flooded through him, and in that moment, he didn’t need to worry about Lucifer, because Dean was there.

‘C’mon Sammy.’ He followed Dean loyally, allowed the man to help him out of his shoes and into Castiel’s bed. Dean sat beside him, looking down.

‘I don’t want him to come, Dean. I don’t want him to hurt me.’ Sam stated, voice wobbling as he did so. Dean’s eyes widened, fear and guilt and love showing through. Dean huffed, moved into the bed beside him, and Sam settled against his brother. They hadn't done this since they were children, but it felt good.

‘I won’t let him, Sammy.’ He assured, and Sam thought back to the Cage. Thought to everything that had happened.

‘I’m sorry. That I’m not strong enough.’ Sam muttered, and his brother tensed.

‘Don’t you say that. Don’t you do that to yourself.’ Sam bit back the rest of the self-loathing comments, content to settle close to his brother. Dean reached for his hair, fingers wrapped into it, and Sam smiled.

‘Sammy, I know we’ve never talked about what happened in the Cage…’ Sam flinched, looking up.

‘Torture, obviously.’ He snapped impatiently, and Dean nodded slowly.

‘I heard you talking to Gabriel. About… Ruby.’ Sam froze, shaking his head and trying to turn the conversation to something else. Dean, however, was not letting up.

‘Sam, I blamed you for that, so if there is something, I want to know.’ Sam looked away, guilt and shame and self-loathing building as he thought how to organise the statement.

‘She drugged my drink until I realised something was wrong. Then she tried to withdraw it, and wouldn’t let me have any unless…’ He trailed off, not wanting to think about the feeling of her skin against his. Dean sucked in air, but didn’t get to talk, because the door opened. Castiel looked between them, went to leave, but Sam shook his head. Dean stood up, one last touch to his hair, and nodded to Cas.

Once the door was shut, Castiel raised one of his eyebrows. Sam patted the bed, smiling slightly.

‘He asked about Ruby…’ Castiel didn’t really know, but he would tell, when he was ready. If he didn’t die first.


	14. Morningstar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE CRESCENDO IS COMING! BRACEEEE

When the Hunter watched them leave, the guilt gnawing at his gut was enough to tell him that this was going to go wrong. Dean didn’t ask why Sam had hugged him, hadn't questioned it, allowing Sam to pull him close. Sam had revelled in it, allowed himself that small luxury before pulling away. He wished he had the guts to say the words, those words, the ones they never said. He didn’t, instead, he hugged his Mom. She smiled, told him they would be home soon. Sam didn’t have the heart to correct her, to tell her that he doubted they were going to be able to restrain the Devil into his Vessel. Then, he thought to the last part of that sentence.

Home. Weird, thinking about the Bunker like that. It had quickly been adopted by Dean, who had loved the Bunker as soon as they set foot in it. But Sam had never had a home, never had anything more than his brother and the Impala. Yet, strangely, he could consider this place home, just because of the people in it. Without them, without Cas and Dean and Mom and Gabriel and even Rowena and Crowley, this place wouldn’t be his home.

Sam had turned to Gabriel, a look exchanged between them. Gabriel didn’t know how Lucifer would react to finding out that he was alive, but Sam did. Sam had seen Lucifer’s guilt, seen some of the repressed memories of a young Angel curled in his big brother’s lap, Lucifer promising that he wouldn’t let anything hurt Gabriel. Lucifer, even if this went wrong, would do everything to not kill Gabriel. Even if he couldn’t show that he cared. Sam gave the Archangel a smile, which was returned happily.

Castiel was the last person he said goodbye to. He pulled his boyfriend close, let himself revel in the warmth that the Angel gave out. This, he had to remember. Had to remember how good it felt to be close to him. The hold lasted longer than Sam thought it would, pulling back enough to stare at Castiel’s eyes. Unlike Lucifer’s, Castiel’s eyes were warm. Not icy, like the Devil’s. Another thing they had never done, not in front of others, was kiss. Sam leant forwards, lips barely brushing his boyfriends, but it was enough to solidify the memory.

‘Come back safe.’ He muttered, flicking his gaze between Castiel and Dean. Cas nodded, squeezed his hand and stepped back.

‘Of course we will.’ Dean stated happily, like they weren’t about to summon the Devil. Sam looked to Rowena and Crowley, both of whom gave him a brief nod. If this went according to plan, Sam would never have to rely on them. If, however, Dean’s plan failed, then it could be quite problematic. It wasn’t that he hated the duo, in fact, Sam was comfortable with both the King of Hell and the Witch.

With them gone, the Bunker was empty. Sam walked to the control room, looked to the panel that controlled the wardings, and chuckled. Making sure they were powered up, he walked back to the library, poured himself a generous helping of Dean’s best whiskey, then settled in the chair. In the end, it all came down to Lucifer.

**

**_‘Pretty, isn’t it.’ The Devil stated. Sam shrugged, regarding the dead bodies spread out across the warehouse. It was obviously a mess, Lucifer had never been one to kill cleanly, and the bodies showed signs of struggling. The Devil, still in his middle-class Banking Vessel, walked through the pools of blood. He did it with a sort of elegance, avoiding the dark red stains, admiring his work. Sam wanted to know why they were dead, what it had achieved, before he noted the stains on the floor._ **

**_‘Angels.’ The dead were Angels. Or had been Angels, before Lucifer had got them. Sam looked to the necks of each of them, noted the cuts. So, the Devil had been draining them of Grace. Powering up before the big showdown, like Sam had done with Demon Blood. It made sense, if he thought about it logically. He should have predicted Lucifer would do something like that._ **

**_‘Are they coming for me?’ Lucifer inquired, a hopeful look on his face. It was evident he was waiting for them, waiting to be summoned back to his permanent Vessel._ **

**_‘Yes.’ No point lying, Sam couldn’t do so when the Devil was around. It was why his plan was so complex, so difficult to pull off. As he spoke the simple word, Lucifer clapped his hands excitedly like a child, a look that could only be described as glee crossing his complexion. It made Sam’s mind churn, remembrance of the Cage and of what Lucifer would do to him making his head hurt._ **

**_‘I’m looking forward to seeing you, Sammy.’ Lucifer stated, stepping over the body of a woman and crossing the room quickly, a bright smile on his face. Despite the warmth behind the smile, Sam couldn’t see it as anything other than threatening. It was the same look Lucifer would give him when Sam did something that pleased him down in the Cage, like begging prettily or shutting up when asked._ **

**_‘Aren’t you going to speak?’ The Devil asked, hand brushing lightly across Sam’s arm as he walked behind him. One thing about the Devil that Sam kept in mind, it was always better to be able to see him. He held still, forced his mind to not freak out. Dean was risking his life to send Lucifer back to Hell, the least Sam could do was keep himself in check._ **

**_‘I hope they send you back to Hell.’ Sam said honestly, and Lucifer chuckled. His breath was cold against the back of Sam’s neck, making him shudder, and the movement just proved how weak Sam was compared to the Devil._ **

**_‘Soon, Sammy. I’ll be back.’ He stated, no, it sounded more like a promise. Sam knew, right as the words were spoken, that he was telling the truth. That Lucifer would indeed see him. And so, thinking back to his brother and boyfriend, Sam tried to appeal to Lucifer’s softer side. Hah, that made him chuckle. Lucifer’s soft side was like the jagged rocks at the bottom of a cliff, harsh and pointed and being constantly abused by the dark ocean._ **

**_‘Don’t hurt them, Lucifer.’ Sam stated, and he knew that somewhere in the Devil’s mind, there was the smallest part of him that actually cared enough to consider the statement. The Devil gave him a mock-salute, before the vision faded, and the scene shifted to something more familiar._ **

**_It was the fourth of July. The sky was dark, and Dean was by his side, the illegal fireworks that Sam remembered so well by their side. Sam watched the scene, watched the smaller him be pulled into Dean’s side, and sent a silent prayer to the Devil._ **

**_‘Thank you, Morningstar.’_ **


	15. MY Vessel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go wrong. Sorry about that

Dean stood nervously, watching Rowena and Crowley sort the spell out. The Trickster was with them, regarding the proceedings with a look of calm, like they weren’t about to face the Devil. Dean was glad they had left Sam behind, it meant his baby brother was safe. That was all that mattered, if something went wrong, he needed Sam to be safe. Needed him to be away from the Devil.

He had been surprised when his brother had hugged him. Maybe it was because Dean was going to face the Devil, maybe it was because of Sam’s seizures and the way he wouldn’t open up. Dean had hugged him back, arms wrapped around, and he could have sworn he felt Sam shudder slightly. He guessed it might be to do with the Ruby thing, which Dean was still furious over.

Presuming that Sam had seduced a Demon, slept with her and been given blood, had been Dean’s biggest mistake. Sam had admitted to her drugging him, and Dean could tell his brother was telling the truth. What was worse, was that Dean hadn't ever asked. He had just assumed that Sam had done it of his own free will. Now, the unspoken words had Dean’s stomach toiling in guilt, the way his brother hadn't finished the sentence. Had she really done that? Drugged him up, taken the blood away unless he would…

When this was over, he was going to sit down with his brother and explain the importance of Sam telling him these things. Sure, Dean was the one to always shutdown chick-flic moments, but he knew Sam blamed himself for Ruby. And the Witch, that had done something to him. Dean needed to explain to Sam the meaning of consent, the understanding that anyone who didn’t listen to Sam saying no needed to be sent straight to Hell.

Castiel walked across to Gabriel, and Dean took the opportunity to study the Angel. When he had first admitted that he had feelings for Dean’s baby brother, he couldn’t believe it. Dean had quickly learnt that whatever was between them, it was weird. They rarely showed affection in public, occasional hand-holding, rare touches. Dean knew that it wasn’t just in public, that it extended to time alone. But, after the British Men of Letters, he had seen the change. Sure enough, knocking on Castiel’s door to reveal his blushing and sex-haired brother was enough to show there was progression.

But, Castiel had told him it wasn’t going too far. He presumed the Angel was telling him to try and reassure him that he wasn’t forcing Sam into anything he didn’t want, but Dean would prefer Sam to have someone he could rely on. The relationship between the two wasn’t going to change anything between him and Sam, that was assured, and the trio were just getting stronger. Mom had come in, disturbed the balance slightly, but it was being resolved. Gabriel was another odd one, but Sam had taken a shining to the abused Archangel, and Dean knew that Sam had told the Archangel things… things that Dean wished his brother trusted him with.

‘I think we’re ready.’ Rowena called, looking to Nick’s body. It had the sigils etched onto the skin, tied down with Enochian cuffs, and Gabriel had checked them over. They should hold, according to the Trickster, as long as the spell was correct. Dean held the Colt in his pocket, knowing it couldn’t kill Lucifer, but it could slow him down.

‘Then start summoning.’ Crowley snapped, glaring at the red-headed witch. Castiel stood by Dean’s side, the two ready in case something went wrong, and Gabriel moved behind them. Dean didn’t blame him, having that dickbag as a brother had to be pretty scary.

‘Aye, Fergus, if you’d shut up…’ She snapped, before she began to chant. Crowley glanced to the bowl as it started to glow, flames dancing, and Dean focused on Nick’s body. The floor began to shake, the body started to jerk, and Rowena shrieked as the bowl’s flames turned to a bright white.

‘Get DOWN!’ Gabriel called to the Demon and the Witch, grabbing Dean and Castiel just as a bright light filled the room. Dean blinked, staring at the darkness that surrounded him, staring at the soft things that were touching his arm. It took him a moment to realise they were the Archangel’s wings, then realised that the hand that was holding his was Castiel’s. As the wings retracted, the two glanced to each other quickly, pulling away. Awkward.

‘Oh Ho! Playing footsie under baby bro’s wings?’ Dean froze, eyes flicking up to the body that was not restrained, to the man leaning casually against the wall. Dean reached for the Colt at the same time that Lucifer’s hand stretched out, the gun going skidding across the room.

‘Play nicely, Dean-o.’ The Devil stated, eyes flicking to the Demon and Witch in the room. Crowley was standing half in-front of his mother, a rare show of braveness that Dean hadn't expected. Finally, the Devil looked at Gabriel, something incomprehensible crossing his face as he did so.

‘And look at this!’ He gestured to his meat-suit, doing a twirl mockingly, ‘I’m looking great. Thanks for that.’ Dean shot a look to Rowena, praying she had some ideas, but the redhead just looked petrified. The only one in the room with the slightest chance was Gabriel, but he was drained of Grace and would end up dead the moment he tried to step forward.

‘Bollocks.’ Crowley muttered, and the Devil grinned, pearly white teeth flashing. Dean was glad he had left Sam at home, this was what he feared.

‘I’ve got so much to do! People to torture,’ He glanced to Crowley, who didn’t flinch, ‘People to kill,’ That was addressed to Dean, who also didn’t flinch, ‘People to have long conversations with about the appropriate places to touch MY Vessel.’ He was glaring at Castiel, and Dean felt the sudden urge to protect his friend. Lucifer glanced between the two of them, before he looked to Gabriel.

‘Well, as fun as this has been, I’ve got a hot date with Sammy.’ Dean froze, Lucifer started laughing, and his eyes flicked red.

‘You seriously don’t think the Bunker can keep him safe? All of you here, nobody to protect little Sammy. Served him on a silver platter.’ Lucifer remarked, before vanishing into thin air. Dean felt his heart clench, shaky hands fumbling for his phone. Castiel looked horrified, looking to Dean slowly.

‘He knew.’ And in that moment, Dean realised why Sam had hugged him so tightly.


	16. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam prepares for the end

Sam finished his second drink, flicking through the books in Enochian. He had never needed to study it, but in this moment where he waited to learn his fate, he took the opportunity to learn the difference between Castiel’s language, and the one he spoke. His words were older, the rigid language of the Archangels. Probably why Gabriel had seemed so surprised when he had started to speak it.

It was a quiet moment, and Sam brought out paper and his pen. This was important, this part was the most important of all the parts. If he didn’t succeed, if he lost everything, Sam needed to know that he had left something for his brother.

_Dean,_

_If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. I don’t know exactly how it happened, but I’m hoping that if I’m gone, Lucifer’s stuck with me. The most important thing, the thing I need you to understand, is that this isn’t your fault. It’s nobody’s fault but Lucifer’s, and he will suffer in the Cage for that._

_You’re probably going to try and bring me back. I get that, I would do the same. But I need you to promise me that you won’t do so, I need Lucifer in that Cage, because if he escapes again, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it. This world needs you, Dean, needs a great Hunter to look after it. You and Mom, you’re the Winchester legacies, you will be the ones that help save the world._

_I’m being selfish, asking you to do this for me, but I need you to leave me where I am. I’ll be okay, knowing you’re safe is the best thing I could ask for. Look after Cas and Mom, and Gabriel. Find a girl, settle down. I’m not saying get out of the life, I’m saying don’t feel guilty._

_Thanks for being the best big brother I could ask for,_

_Sam_

That seemed appropriate, he thought. He put it in the envelope, sealed it, and wrote his name on the front.

_Cas,_

_I’m sorry for leaving. I’m guessing I had to do some pretty bad stuff to get Lucifer in the Cage, and I know that isn’t the way you would want this to end. No amount of apologising is going to make you forgive me, but I needed to write to you. Cas, you were there for me when I wasn’t entirely sure I could continue. You convinced me that I was worth something, even if I used that against you._

_Look after Dean. I’m going to miss you, but even in the darkest moments, what we had will keep me sane. Thank you, for accepting me despite every fault I had. I never got to say it to you, so I will have to settle for writing it. I love you, even though I don’t deserve you._

_Yours,_

_Sam_

He sealed the second letter, putting it next to the first one after writing his boyfriend’s name on the front.

_Mom,_

_I didn’t get enough time to know you. I get how hard it has to be, coming back after all this time. Truth be told, I think the reason I avoided you was because of the guilt I felt for what happened to you. I’m sorry for that, you deserved the life that you tried to have with John and Dean. I’m just hoping that you can have that, looking after Dean when I’m not there._

_It was an honour to meet you, even if it was for such a short period of time. It made me realise just how much I had been missing you, when you came back into our lives. Being able to call myself your son, it’s enough to keep me happy._

_I wish we had more time, Mom._

_Sam_

That one seemed short, but he didn’t know what to say, and so he sealed it and placed it next to the others. Finally, he took one last sheet of paper.

_Gabe, Crowley, Rowena,_

_So, you get a joint letter. Sucky, I know, but I’m writing with a time limit. Pretty soon, Lucifer is going to stroll into the Bunker and steal me away. I might die, that would be nice, but I’m figuring he’s going to keep me. If the plan works, then he’ll be in the Cage when you read this. If it hasn’t worked, then I must be dead. Sorry about that._

_Rowena, you did everything I asked. You did everything you could. What I asked you to do was selfish, because I knew that you would blame yourself when I didn’t come back. But I don’t blame you, I knew the risks, and I did it anyway. Lucifer was, and always will be, my issue. I can only thank you for helping me. You really are a great Witch, Rowena, don’t let Dean tell you otherwise. If you’re reading this and I’m gone, you’ll find a gift for you on my bed. Figured it was about time you had it._

_Crowley, I’m pretty sure you’re not going to be too bothered if I’m stuck in the Cage. But still, I do want to thank you for your help in the plan. When everything got bad, you were the one that told me I still had the ability to beat the Devil. If the plan worked, it will be because of that courage. So thank you, and enjoy the bottle of Scotch that’s got my name on in the cupboard. Keep an eye on Dean for me, he has a habit of getting into trouble._

_Gabriel, I’ve saved the best till last. I genuinely didn’t think I would ever call you a friend, not after mystery spot, but I know better than anyone how much running towards Archangels must hurt. I don’t blame you for that, and the mystery spot thing was long-forgiven. I hope you continue to live in the Bunker, Chuck knows you could do with a break. Cas will probably need you, and I know how much you like having him around. Thank you, for being there and listening to the problems that you really didn’t have to. I hope that I started to pay you back, offering to help you. I’m just sorry that I couldn’t say this in person. Name a Moose in my honour, hey?_

_Goodbye, friends._

_Sam_

The final letter, sealed and placed down. He picked up the four letters, walked across the library and put them in the back of the spell book that Rowena would use. Then, he turned back to the scotch, before his phone rang. It was too soon, he thought, he wasn’t ready. He hadn't finished saying goodbye.

‘Dean?’ He answered, pretending like he didn’t know what was happening.

‘Sammy, listen, you need to get out of the Bunker. Lucifer’s free, and he’s coming for…’ Dean was cut off by the almighty sound of the Bunker’s wardings shutting down, the rumble as the door blew open, and Sam turned, keeping the phone against his ear. The time of reckoning was here.


	17. Honey, I'm home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT WARNING PLEASE!!!  
> Thanks, Love to all

‘Honey, I’m homeeee!’ Lucifer called, and Sam heard Dean press down harder on the Gas of the Impala. Sam put the phone on speaker, placed it down on the side, then looked up at the Devil. He descended the steps slowly, a grin on his face, Nick’s body looking just as it always had.

‘Hello, Heylel.’ He greeted, tone calm as the Devil walked towards him. Lucifer giggled happily, strolling across, and Sam stood still as he approached.

‘Ready for a little hell-raising, Sammy?’ He inquired, peering to the phone, then back to Sam. The Hunter heard Dean calling for him, probably to reassure him that they were coming, but it was not enough. Sam stared defiantly at the Devil, anger creeping into his tone.

‘The answer is the one it will always be. No.’ Lucifer actually paused, before a hand gripped his head and slammed him into the edge of the desk so fast that he couldn’t hope to stop it. His brother screamed, and Sam felt blood trickle down from his nose.

‘Now, Sammy, I was going to play nicely.’

**

Dean sprinted into the Bunker, staring in mild horror at what he saw. The table was broken, blood smeared down the side, and a bottle of scotch was opened on the side. No Devil, no Sam. The metallic smell of blood filling the air, the older brother sunk to the floor with tears in his eyes, staring at Sam’s phone that was cracked, lying in the pool of blood.

‘Sammy…’ He murmured, heard Mary crying behind him, heard Castiel’s gasp of pain. Dean didn’t turn around, he just knelt in the library trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now.

‘Dean, we need to prepare.’ Crowley stated, voice calm as he looked around. Dean spun, ready to punch the King of Hell, but stopped when he realised he was only angry because he knew it was his fault that his baby brother was in the hands of the Devil.

‘For what?’ Dean stated, tiredness creeping into his tone as he looked at him.

‘Lucifer will come to kill us. And we need to be ready.’ Crowley firmly stated, the WE surprising Dean, who expected the King to jump at the first sign of trouble. Slowly, the Hunter nodded, looking to the broken table.

‘Okay.’

**

‘Scream for me, Sammy.’ The Devil happily stated, cutting back down into Sam’s skin. He was tied to the bed that he had seen in one of his nightmares, stuck in just his boxers, the white sheets underneath him a dark red. Every so often, Lucifer would push his Grace out to take over Sam’s body, the cold creeping in and making Sam scream louder, more desperate for the end. The Devil looked pleased with his work, the carving of LUCIFER onto his back, and WHORE carved into his stomach.

He didn’t mind. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen, so Sam continued to try and work through the pain as he let the Devil think he had won. He kept his mind blank, knowing if this was going to work, he had to make in convincing. The only person who could beat the Devil, was the Vessel of the Devil.

‘Such a pretty little bitch.’ Lucifer cooed, stroking bloody hair out of his face. Sam allowed it, keeping his eyes looking straight ahead rather than at the Devil, who was trailing a knife down his collarbone. It itched, stung as it dragged across the skin, not deep enough to do real damage, but still painful. He took the opportunity to think of bad thoughts. Thoughts that he knew, on some level, were true, but he didn’t really believe them. He just had to, to make this work.

_This is Castiel’s fault. He let the Devil out of the Cage. Yet I’m the one paying._

He knew Lucifer was listening. Saw the slight upturn of the Devil’s lips, tugging into a small smile. He was happy. Lucifer was getting love and obsession mixed up, this wasn’t love. Not as he stroked down Sam’s chest, praising him for how beautiful his skin was, how pretty he was when he bled. That wasn’t love, what he had with Castiel was love, but he couldn’t think that. The knife sunk into his right side, dragging across, and Sam let the thought spiral.

_Dean forgave him for letting the Devil out, yet he never lets me forget._

That caused the pressure to lighten slightly, although he knew Lucifer didn’t know he was doing it. Sam felt awful, sick thinking bad things about the people he loved, but he needed this to work. Needed to give the Devil the one thing he craved, attention. Love. That was why they were so alike, both needed reassurance and love, but one hadn't got it. One went insane, stuck in a Cage for thousands of years, unable to get the love that had made Sam different from the Devil.

_Mom doesn’t actually care about me, she’s there for Dean. Not me. Never me._

‘I’ve got you, Sammy.’ The Devil promised, unintentionally telling him that he had indeed been listening to his thoughts. Sam whimpered, tilted his head to the side like he did down in the Cage when he couldn’t take anymore pain, when he couldn’t take anymore slicing. Lucifer, as he had always done in the Cage, dropped the tool and climbed up onto the bed next to him.

His bloodstained clothes rubbed uncomfortably against his skin, but Sam didn’t say anything, just tried to squirm away as Lucifer got reckless. Hands shoved at his boxers, ignoring the fact that he was soft and lifting his hips slightly, shoving at his jeans impatiently. Sam whined, begged for him not to, knowing how this worked. Lucifer would be rough, needed the conformation that Sam was there. The Devil was quick with his movements, pushing in sharply and using Grace to lube Sam up, which was nice of him.

A hand wrapped lightly around his throat, cutting off the air supply, but Sam didn’t really mind. Lucifer wouldn’t actually kill him, just hurt him a little. That was alright, he could manage that. The thrusts became quicker, Lucifer panting like a dog as he chased his own release, desperate for the closeness to Sam. His head dropped to the crook of Sam’s neck, forked tongue lightly running over his sweat and blood-stained skin as he tried to basically meld into Sam.

This was also alright. Sam could deal with this, could send his mind away to the place where he was safe, where he was sitting next to Dean on the hood of the Impala, Dean’s arm wrapped around him singing softly, soothing the Winchester’s nerves. This was the same, Sam could disassociate away from his body, forget all about the hips pounding against him, forget the hurried movements of the Devil trying to find his warmth.

If he was entirely honest with himself, Sam felt a little sorry for the Devil. It must be loneliness, he thought, trying to bite back a cry as cold filled his lower belly, the Devil faltering as his seed spilled. That was alright, Sam was still high in the clouds, floating where no Devil could ever find him.


	18. Anyone going to offer me a drink?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer does some Devil things. Dean does some thinking

‘What do you think, Sammy?’ The Devil inquired, turning one way and then the other. Sam rose his head, trying to stop the pounding ringing in his ears, looked across to the Devil. Sam was acting broken, just for the benefit of the Devil, who was currently looking… hot. Even Sam could admit that, the jacket suited him, although Lucifer had decided against the waistcoat. That was a shame, Sam thought, the waistcoat had suited him. Not that he would say so, when he knew that the entire reason that Lucifer had a new suit was 1) because he killed the tailor, and 2) because he was trying to show the Bunker residents that he was collected and strong.

The suit was a light grey. It clung to his ass, fitted him perfectly. The white shirt was nice, newly ironed by the looks of it, and Lucifer looked relatively good in it. He put the grey tie on, did it up, then peered down to Sam. The Hunter was still restrained, but he knew what Lucifer was going to offer. It would be what he would do, in this situation.

‘Shower, you’ll find clothes for you outside. We’re going to the Bunker.’ Sam didn’t argue, watched as Lucifer undid the cuffs on him. He rolled his wrists and ankles, before hobbling to the bathroom. His ass hurt slightly, not because Lucifer had been unkind, just because he had gone three times, and Sam struggled to keep up with the demand. He screamed and fought every time, knowing that the Devil wished he wouldn’t.

Lucifer would never say it aloud, but Sam knew he wanted him to be willing. It made Sam’s plan easier, in a way.

**_‘Remember, Samuel, Lucifer cannot suspect anything. You have to keep it hidden.’ Rowena remarked as they stood in the library._ **

Sam ran the water until it was hot, not bothering with the shower curtain. He washed away the blood and the spit and the sweat. Then he cleaned the cum from between his thighs, until he felt clean. His fingers traced the cuts that Lucifer had made, trying to remember everything Rowena and Crowley had told him.

**_‘It will be marked, where you need him to be. He has to go willingly, Sam. You have to complete the sigils.’ Rowena explained, and Sam knew they were doubting him. Crowley cleared his throat, staring at him like he was mad._ **

**_‘No offence Moose, how exactly are you going to do this?’ Sam thought back to what he knew about the Devil, his undying love for Sam, and gave a brief shrug._ **

**_‘I’ll work it out.’_ **

‘You look stunning.’ Lucifer purred, tracing the button-up shirt and the slightly too-tight trousers. Sam didn’t respond, flinching when the Devil traced a hand along his chest. If this didn’t work, Sam would need something better than Death to save him. In fact, he would need a miracle. The Devil sucked a bruise onto his neck, Sam weakly trying to shove him off.

‘Don’t fight me, Sam.’ The Devil snarled, resuming his attack, and Sam moaned and whimpered and tried to get away. He needed this, needed the coldness of Lucifer’s Grace to remind him why he was doing this. The Devil was already growing hard in his trousers, Sam could feel it pressed against his hip, and Sam tried to stop the bile threatening to rise.

‘I’m going to ruin them.’ He murmured, more to himself than to Sam, so the Hunter didn’t reply. He just looked into those icy eyes, wondering how the Morningstar had fallen so very low.

**

‘We need a new plan.’ Dean had exclaimed, and everyone had nodded. He didn’t question Rowena setting up a spell bowl, knowing that the woman blamed herself for Sam going missing. He didn’t ask what Crowley was organising with her, left the two alone to sort something out. If Dean had bothered looking to the wall, he would have seen chalk marks on the wall. But he didn’t look, and so Dean didn’t notice them.

Dean couldn’t think about the fact that Sam was taken yesterday, had spent 22 hours with the Devil, and was probably going insane. He thought back to when the wall was broken in his mind, when Sam tried to kill himself, when Dean found little horizontal scars on his arms that Sam couldn’t explain.

He couldn’t lose Sam, not again. Watching the man cut himself, tear himself apart from the inside had been awful. He had heard the nightmares, heard Sam crying out for Lucifer to stop. Now, as he researched a way to kill the Devil, Dean wondered for the first time if Lucifer had done something more than torture. Of course, he hadn't even considered it before. Never thought about it, presuming Sam just went through the same that he did.

But what if Lucifer had done something more? What if Lucifer, like Ruby and that stupid Witch, had tried to… had actually… Castiel would know. Gabriel would know. And part of Dean really wanted to ask them, wanted to know if his brother was currently being used by the Devil as an easy lay. Anger bubbled up quickly, thinking of anyone hurting his brother like that. When Lucifer came, Dean was going to kill him, or die trying.

He wished they had spoken about Hell. Wished that Dean didn’t have that stupid no chick-flic rule, so that he could have sat and listened to what Lucifer did to his brother. He didn’t know a lot, just vague things about meat-hooks and Michael and Lucifer fighting. That, according to Sam, had been how he learnt Enochian. That freaked Dean out slightly, how fluent his brother was in the tongue of the Archangels, but he hadn't said that.

Dean was just about to say something, probably about how he needed food if they were going to continue this researching, when the lights to the Bunker flickered. The wardings groaned, flashing up and then dying one by one. Dean stood, reaching for the Colt, and the others each picked up weapons. The door to the Bunker flew open with a bang, one that had Dean actually flinching away from it.

The walls rumbled, Team Free Will 2.0 stepping back as someone descended the stairs. It was, of course, the Devil. He looked clean, fresh in a sharp suit, and had Sam following behind him. His brother didn’t even look up, just followed the Devil calmly into the room, and silence fell.

‘Anyone going to offer me a drink?’ Lucifer enquired, cocking his head to the side in amusement.


	19. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer's in the Bunker, Dean doesn't have a plan, and Sam wishes he didn't have one.

Sam stood perfectly still, watched as the Devil strode in. Dean went to move, but he was thrown back. The others had the same done, pinned to walls, and Sam took the opportunity to look up to the chalk lines on the wall. He looked to them, then to Rowena, who was staring at him. He gave her a nod, telling her to act her part. If she even looked suspicious, the Devil would know something was off. And then the plan wouldn’t work, and they would all die.

‘Stay down.’ Lucifer snapped to Gabriel, the only one fighting being held down. Gabriel eventually stopped struggling, Lucifer stepping forward and undoing his jacket. Sam watched him take it off, then risked a glance to Castiel. The Angel was staring right back at him, and Sam looked back to the floor, wishing his heart rate to go down.

_Dean isn’t fighting for me. Cas isn’t fighting for me. Mary is more concerned with Dean._

The Devil chuckled slightly, taking off his tie and unbuttoning the top two buttons, placing them down and looking to the people in front. Sam risked another glance to the wall, scolding himself internally. He had to do this. Had to make this work, for Dean, for Cas, for everyone in this Bunker.

‘I expected more, if I was honest. A plan, at the very least.’ Lucifer looked disappointed, and Dean looked guilty. Sam didn’t say anything, although he did move forwards, taking the half empty bottle of scotch and pouring himself a glass. Lucifer’s head turned, and Sam looked to him.

_Thirsty, Heylel?_

**Please, Sammy**

Sam poured a glass out for the Devil, walking across and placing it down. Lucifer looked smugly at Dean, who was staring at Sam in horror. Sam, who had decided this was going to work, moved back to behind the Devil.

‘You see, I’m going to try and kill you all, Sam’s going to beg me not to, ask me to spare your worthless lives’ and I’m…’

‘No.’ Sam said, one word that cut off Lucifer’s rant.

**_‘Make it believable, Sam. Make him think that he’s got you.’ Crowley said, and Sam thought about it logically. He could do that._ **

‘I’m sorry?’ Lucifer stated, spinning to face Sam. The Hunter looked blankly back, controlling his thoughts.

‘Kill them. Torture them. I’m done.’ Sam drained the glass, putting it back on the table, and looked to the Devil.

**_‘One thing he wants more than anything, that’s what I’m going to give him.’_ **

‘Castiel let you out. Dean forgave him. I let you out and put you away, yet I get the harsh looks and the judgement. Mary doesn’t actually care about me, she’s too obsessed with Dean. If this is what the good side is,’ Sam paused, trying to stop his heart from breaking, ‘Then I want no part of it.’

Lucifer cocked his head to the side, looking thoroughly confused, and Sam started walking towards the Devil.

‘Yes, Morningstar.’ Sam stated, and the Archangel blinked in surprise. He rarely used the nickname, only deep down in the Cage when Lucifer let Sam breathe without pain.

‘Yes, Lucifer. Yes.’ Step forwards, towards the shocked Devil. ‘Yes.’ Step, until he was right in his personal space. ‘Yes.’ He muttered, right up in front of the Devil, before he took Lucifer’s shirt and dragged him forwards. His lips hit cold, freezing cold, and Sam fought to keep his emotions blank. The Devil didn’t take long to recover, arms wrapping around Sam quicker than he could have ever predicted. The cold spread across his lips, and Sam kissed hungrily, thinking to a different set of blue eyes as he rutted against the Devil.

**_‘You have to get him inside the marks, Sam. Blood to complete the sigils.’_ **

Lucifer’s teeth nipped at his lip, Sam gasping and giving access as he was spun and shoved onto the table. Lucifer leant over, forked tongue reaching for his neck, and Sam made eye contact with the King of Hell.

**_‘You’ve got to control him, Sam.’_ **

Sam kicked out Lucifer’s leg, spinning around and pulling the Devil close. Lucifer obliged, legs wrapping around Sam’s waist as he carried them to the wall, pushing him against the chalk marks. Lucifer moaned low, Sam dropping his lips to the Devil’s neck. It felt wrong, all wrong, too cold. The moans weren’t the same as Castiel’s, they were sounds that Sam didn’t recognise. He pushed the thoughts away, continuing his work.

**_‘I need something of yours. Something touched by the Devil. A shirt, a sock of something.’ Rowena stated, and Sam nodded. He could do that._ **

He ripped Lucifer’s shirt, knowing he would do the same. His shirt was ripped, he heard Dean’s whine at the carving on his back. Sam shrugged his arms out while kissing the Devil, chucking the shirt towards Crowley’s location. Lucifer purred happily, Sam reattaching his lips to the man’s neck as he pinned his hands above his head. One hand held them in place, the other dug nails into his palm till blood broke. He drew the sigil while kissing the Devil, swapping hands and doing the same.

Kissing down Lucifer’s chest, he went across the cold skin, hands trailing. Lucifer groaned, head tipped back and eyes glowing red. His wings unfurled, becoming solid as Sam got on his knees, sucking a bruise over his hipbone. The wings were terrifying, bright and white, although he only had one set out.

‘Oh Sammy, I always wanted you to do this willingly.’ He remarked, Sam using one hand to undo his belt while the other was drawing the sigil. He nuzzled the skin, couldn’t show any hesitance, not even when wings touched his skin. He was doing this for Dean, for Cas, for everyone in the Bunker.

‘And I don’t have to share you with Michael anymore!’ The Devil exclaimed happily, and for a moment, Sam forgot how to breathe. Memories flooded his mind, but he bit it back, nipping and nuzzling the Devil’s crotch as he swapped hands, finishing the last sigil. He looked up, eyes wide and smirked.

‘See you in Hell, Bunk Buddy.’ He slammed his hand down, watched the gate to the Cage open, and moved faster than the Devil could comprehend. Sam moved, arm wrapping around Lucifer’s waist as he rugby tackled him, sending them both hurtling through the portal. Lucifer screamed, his True Voice echoing, and as Sam risked a glance back as he fell, he noted that Gabriel had his wings wrapped around Dean to stop his eardrums bursting.

Sam laughed, falling back into the Cage with the Devil, knowing he had won. The Devil lunged for him in free fall, reached out as he tried to reach him, but Sam couldn’t lose his smile. He had beaten the Devil yet again, and he would not forget that. Nothing could break him, not the Cage, not Lucifer, not anything. As the darkness enveloped the two falling deep into Hell, only one thought was on the Hunter’s mind. Sam Winchester was free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end! Potential for more, if you guys want! Thanks for reading!!!!


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